Forgotten Hope
by twin03
Summary: A Noldorin Elf has given up on returning to Valinor. During the War of the Ring, she thinks she’s found love with Legolas, but it isn’t meant to be. After she’s given up looking, she finds love again in a very unlikely person eventually GandalfOC
1. One

Forgotten Hope

Oft hope is born, when all is forlorn (Return of the King, p. 169)

            A/N: This story is somewhat Silmarillion based, but I will try to make it understandable for all readers.  It is based on the books rather than the movies.  Italics indicate Sindarin.

            I plan to update at least once a week (possibly more frequent).  Constructive criticism and reviews are appreciated.  Please let me know if you see any typos, grammatical errors, etc.

Disclaimer: The original characters and plot are the author's.  The rest is based on the work of J. R. R. Tolkein.  I am making no money from this project.

            Please let me know what you think of this story!  Enjoy!

Chapter 1

            "Mistress Rian!"

            Rian straightened from where she was working in her herb garden.  She looked up to see her two students running towards her.

            "What is it?"

            "There are visitors!"

            "Really?"  Visitors to Edoras were uncommon in these troubled days, but occasionally Rohirrim from other settlements did visit, and it really wasn't something to get excited over.

            "Yes, and one of them is an Elf!"  Christa blurted excitedly.

            "An Elf?"  That was odd.  Rian was the only Elf in Rohan, and none of the humans knew what she really was.  She had learned long ago to "mask" her presence so she looked to them like another human.  To them, she looked like another nondescript fifty-something woman.  "I wonder why an Elf is here…"

            "There's also a Dwarf and Man who looks like…" Young Christa faltered, searching for the right word.

            "He reminded me of a king."  Elena finished for her.  At nineteen, Elena was a couple years older and at least marginally more mature than fifteen year old Christa.  Still, their antics often amused Rian.

            "And Gandalf is here."  Elena finished.  Rian glanced up sharply.

            "He rarely brings good tidings."  That was how the people of Rohan perceived the wizard.  Rian had known him for ages, but these people thought her a fifty-something healer who had never left Rohan, so she couldn't reveal that she knew more about the wizard than that.

            "Be that as it may, he seems to have healed the King."  Elena said calmly, having finally caught her breath.  "And Théoden has exiled Gríma."

            Deep inside, Rian wanted to rejoice.  "It's about time.  I have grown sick of always watching over my shoulder for him."  Gríma had always had an eye on her two students, as well as the Lady Éowyn.  The king's counselor had realized that she had some power beyond what was natural for Men, and for that reason he had left them alone.  Rian was simply grateful he had never realized what she truly was.  Her work as a healer would be very difficult if the people she was helping knew she was an Elf.  She preferred anonymity, which allowed her to work among them without hindrance.  The culture of Rohan was naturally suspicious of outsiders, whether Men or others.  It had taken years before she was accepted when she first came.  There was also an aura of mystery and awe of Elves in the common people.  If they had known who she really was, she would never be able to go among them and do her healing work, and especially not teach students.  

            "They accused him of being a spy for Saruman!"  Christa blurted.

            "Saruman?  Why would the White Wizard spy on us?"

            "I don't know.  That's just what I overheard."

            "So you were eavesdropping."

            "I was just in the right place at the right time."

            "I'm sure you were.  Now that you've told me about your adventures for the day, so why don't you help me dry these herbs."  Rian's tone allowed no argument.  It wasn't a question.

            Both girls groaned, but they quickly got aprons and settled to the task.  They were both orphans with no other benefactor, and they were grateful to Rian.  Without her, they would have starved, and even now neither had many prospects for marriage.  While healing was a respectable profession for a woman, it was unlikely that any man would ever seek either girl's hand.  Besides that, neither of them minded the work much.  Their complaints were just for show.

            As she set up the drying rack, Christa called over, "Aren't you going to go and at least see them, Mistress?"

            "Why should I?"

            "It may be your only chance to see an Elf."  Rian snorted.  They had no idea.

            "Seriously, you should at least go over there," Elena said from where she was chopping the herbs for drying.

            "Maybe I will later."

            "We can handle this.  You've been working on it all morning.  Give your back a rest and let us finish here," Elena finished.

            "Oh, all right.  I'll be back in a few hours."  With that, Rian went inside and removed her apron, then brushed her hair.

            At the hall, Rian first ran into Éowyn, who was getting a meal ready for the visitors.  She and Éowyn had a casual friendship, but they had never been close.  While the women shared the bond of being just outside their culture, Rian was counted among the common people, while Éowyn was nobility.  Their friendship was hindered, even more than this, by the fact that Rian avoided becoming close to many people.  Close friends would expect her to confide in them, and she carried too many secrets to risk that.  As far as Éowyn was concerned, Rian was only a simple healer who was just scraping by.  Éowyn had been grateful when Rian took in Christa and Elena.  After all, it kept them from prostitution.

            "Éowyn!"  Rian called a greeting.

            "Hello, Rian."

            "I heard there was some excitement this morning."

            "Yes.  There are visitors, and the King has been restored.  Gandalf came this morning with several companions, and he healed my uncle.  Wormtongue is gone, and it's like the days before he came."  Éowyn's eyes were shining with hope—hope that had been absent for many years.  

            "That's what the girls told me.  At least we can say that Gandalf does more than bring ill news.  I wonder if I might be able to help you with the meal.  The girls are drying herbs, and there's not a lot for me to do there."  Even though she tried to fit in, Rian couldn't pass up the opportunity to defend her old friend.  Gandalf had always been good to her.

            "If you wish.  I don't need help, but I won't turn it away."  

            "I'd like a chance to see the visitors.  It isn't often that such a group visits Edoras.  

To see an Elf and a Dwarf is quite an opportunity."

            Éowyn nodded.  It really wasn't like the healer to be extremely curious, even of strange events, but most of Edoras was trying to get a glimpse of the visitors, and she didn't mind an extra set of hands, especially since, unlike the rest of the community, Rian wasn't the type to fall all over herself at the sight of strange visitors.

            Rian breathed a sigh of relief.  For Gandalf and Aragorn to be here, for that was surely who the royal Man was, something major must be happening.  She knew the line of Isildur remained, something hidden from other Men, but for Gandalf and whoever the Elf and Dwarf were to be with him was a sign that whatever was happening was of the utmost importance.  Additionally, the inference of Saruman's betrayal was bothering her, and she hoped to have an opportunity to talk to Gandalf.

            Rian entered the hall and hesitated for a moment when she caught sight of Aragorn, for indeed that is who the Man was.  She helped Éowyn serve the meal and immediately felt three sets of eyes on her.  Of the four visitors, only the Dwarf was oblivious to her true identity.  As she set a plate before Aragorn, he caught her eye.

            "It is good to see you again, my lady."  Rian smiled inwardly at his tact.  He knew she probably wasn't using her own name, and wouldn't risk revealing her by not knowing the name she used here in Edoras.

            "And you, my lord.  Is it true that Saruman has betrayed us?"

            "Yes, it is."  Before he could continue, Aragorn noticed Legolas watching her.  "_This is Legolas from Mirkwood.  Legolas, Elewen has chosen to live among Men for many years.  She hides herself so they will not realize she is an Elf."_

            Legolas nodded.  "_Forgive me, lady.  I did not expect to see another Elf here._"

            Rian kept her face blank, as if she hadn't understood the Sindarin conversation.  "If you will excuse me, my lord?"  Aragorn nodded, and she was able to slip away.

            The rest of the meal went uneventfully, then Théoden took the visitors to the armory to give them whatever armor they would take.  Her excuse to be there gone, Rian slipped out of the hall to go home.


	2. Two

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read this so far, and to Silcawen Uvanimor-dreamingfifi for the review.  I've added a footnote to explain some of the Silmarillion-based information, but please let me know if anything isn't clear enough.

Chapter 2

            As Rian left the hall to go home, she spotted Gandalf lingering nearby.  He'd slipped away while the others went to the armory.  "It's good to see you, Elewen," he said softly, after glancing around to be sure no one would overhear them.  He smiled softly at her.  They had known each other for longer than anyone else there, even Legolas, could imagine.  He spoke softly, knowing that she would hear clearly even if he were to whisper.  

            With a nod of his head, he led her around the side of a building into a back alley.  She was grateful for his discretion.  It would look strange if she were seen talking to him.  They stood close enough together so both could hear clearly without raising their voices above a whisper.

            "And you, Mithrandir, though that name hardly fits anymore.  We have called you Grey Pilgrim for many years, and now you come to us in white.  There must be quite a story behind all of this."  Rian waited for him to elaborate.

            "Yes.  It is quite a story.  Unfortunately, I have only a moment, but I'll tell you what I can.  You've remained in Middle Earth long enough to have a right to know what's happening.  I believe you've heard about Saruman's betrayal?"  Rian nodded, and he continued, face solemn.  "The One Ring has been found, and the Ringbearer is attempting to take it to Mount Doom to destroy it.  I fear for him.  It is a difficult task, and Sauron has grown strong.  He is amassing an army to destroy Middle Earth."  Gandalf sighed heavily.  

            "You feel responsible for this Ringbearer."  Rian could see the weariness and worry in his eyes.

            "You are as perceptive as ever."  Gandalf smiled briefly.  "Yes, he is a Hobbit, and no older than these people think you."

            "A Hobbit?"  Rian was surprised, but waited for him to continue.  They had little time, and he would tell her what he thought was most important if she didn't interrupt him.

            "Yes.  I wish I had more time, but it is a long story."  He sighed again, and Rian was amazed at how tired he seemed.  She'd never seen him this weary.  

            "It's all right.  What happened that you've changed your color?"  Gandalf glanced away.  "Would you rather I didn't ask?"  Rian realized from the look on his face that she'd brought up a sensitive subject.

            "You may ask, but I fear I don't have time to tell the story now.  Perhaps another time.  It isn't critical to the matter at hand."  Again, the wizard smiled briefly, but there was no humor in the expression.  "We are to ride against Isengard shortly.  Éowyn will lead the people to Dunharrow."

            "She is capable of leading them."

            "Yes, but I'm glad you'll be there, too."

            "To them, I'm nothing more than an old healer."

            Gandalf chuckled.  "I know.  I was afraid Legolas would give away your secret at dinner just now.  I'm glad Aragorn spoke to him." 

            "He wasn't that obvious, but I am also glad that Aragorn told him who I was.  I couldn't have spoken to him without privacy, and since you're in a hurry, that would have been difficult.  Thank you for telling me about all of this."

            "Of course.  I ought to return before I am missed."  With that, the wizard slipped off to rejoin his companions, and Rian returned home, pondering everything he'd told her.  Hopefully she'd get a chance to hear the whole story some day.  By the sound of it, the world stood in a very precarious position.  The journey to destroy the Ring would be dangerous, even if the bearer was willing to destroy it when the time came.  If Sauron regained the One Ring, the world would fall into darkness, and there would be little one healer could do to fight it.  On the other hand, if Sauron fell, the remaining Elves would leave Middle Earth, and it would be a lonely place for any who remained, and she didn't feel ready to go to Valinor yet.  Elewen had rarely spent much time among her kinspeople, but it would be a very lonely life in Middle Earth if all the other Elves left.  

            Elewen had spent many years among Men.  She was able to appear as one of them, and Rian was the latest of many names she'd used to conceal her identity.  For some reason, she'd always felt drawn to help them, especially after the line of Kings disappeared.  It made Aragorn's appearance even more significant.  She'd met him as a boy in Rivendell, but hadn't thought much of it.  After all, he would have probably followed the same pattern as the rest of his line and married and produced an heir to perpetuate the cycle.  After she'd heard news of his engagement to Arwen, Elewen had realized that he would either restore his family or else it would die with him, because Elrond would not allow them to marry until Aragorn took the throne of Gondor.

            A king on the throne in Minas Tirith would be a good thing for Men, but they all had to survive the coming storm, and with Sauron on the move as he seemed to be.  Whatever was coming, it was bigger than anything since Morgoth was chained by the Valar.*  Indeed, the very feeling of Middle Earth reminded Elewen of those days.  There was an aura of danger but also hope to it.  Morgoth had been chained and removed from ever threatening Middle Earth, but it remained to be seen whether the same could be done to Sauron.

            Sighing, Rian turned toward home.  People on the streets told her about the events of the day, each one telling a slightly different story, but all warning her to get ready to leave for Dunharrow.  Eventually, she had to brush them off to get home to do so.  She didn't like to be rude, but every housewife on the way assumed she hadn't heard because she lived on the fringes of Rohirrim society, even though news usually came to her quickly.  When Rian finally got home, she set to packing.

            Rian was in her room packing her few personal things when Christa came in.  "What's that stuff, Rian?"  She pointed to the brightly colored bundle of fabric Rian was holding.

            "Old things, Christa.  Just old things."  She tied the bundle with cord, hoping the girl wouldn't press the issue.  Christa knew that, like many of the women of Rohan, she kept a sword, but Rian didn't want her to see this one.  The sword that was hidden in the bundle of clothes was one she had brought from Valinor, and the elegant workmanship and rich fabric hiding it would raise more questions than answers.  She hoped Christa wouldn't make the connection between this long bundle and the other sword that she would wear on her belt on the journey to Dunharrow.

            "Are your things packed?"  It was an abrupt subject change, and Christa would be hurt by her evasiveness, but Rian needed to change the subject before the girl asked too many questions.  Even with her trusted students, Rian had to be careful.  Their awe over Legolas reinforced Rian's reasons for keeping her Elven heritage hidden from them, as well as the renewed whispers about an Elven sorceress in Lothlórien.  The whispers about Galadriel irritated her to no end, but there was little she could do about it.  She could hardly admit she had helped raise the Elf they considered a sorceress.  It was typical of the Rohirrim to react with distrust toward outsiders, especially Elves, but Rian had known Galadriel since the other Elf was just a child, and it often difficult to bite her tongue and reply politely to their superstitious comments.

            "Yes, but what about the garden?"

            "We should be back after the trouble is over.  Even if it's ruined by then, I have seeds for everything.  Many of these herbs don't grow in this part of Middle Earth, but I grew them from seeds originally, and I still have seeds for everything.  Be sure you have plenty of salves for aches, cuts, and bruises ready for the trip, and not buried in the bottom of some bag where you can't find them."  Christa had never been out of Edoras longer than a day, and she didn't yet realize how difficult this type of journey could be.  Even though it was a short journey from Edoras to Dunharrow, with children and old men and women, it would be a slow one.

            "Oh!  I suppose that makes sense."

            "Why don't you go rearrange your things so you can get at them."  Rian prompted her student gently, hoping not to embarrass her too badly_._  Christa nodded and hurried off to repack, leaving Rian in peace to finish packing things Christa shouldn't see. 

* Morgoth was the original evil force in Middle Earth.  Sauron was one of his chief servants.  After Morgoth deceived the Númenoreans, he was cast out beyond reach of Middle Earth to await judgement, but Sauron remained behind, which is why at the time of the war of the ring, that Sauron is the chief evil force in Middle Earth.


	3. Three

A/N: Thanks for the reviews on chapter two.  I realize the summary isn't very good, and I've modified it a little.  I'm trying to find a balance between making the story seem interesting and not giving away too much of the plot.  I'd welcome any advice on how to make it look a little more welcoming.  Please let me know what you think so far!

Chapter 3

            The journey to Dunharrow came as quite a surprise to the girls.  They spent part of the first day complaining about their own aches and pains until they realized that Rian, whom they thought should be aching much worse due to age, wasn't complaining, and that many of the other older folks were suffering greatly.  The healers had one horse between the three of them, and after noon of the first day, the girls insisted that others ride it, such as the older folks or children, for whom the trip was harder.  The Rohirrim were a people of horses, but many of the peasants had to walk, and with men riding to Isengard, horses were in short supply, and for the most part, they were needed for luggage.

            When the girls offered their horse to old women and little children, and when the three of them brewed ache-soothing teas over the campfire, it was a step toward keeping them better integrated in the community.  Often the three healers were outcasts, not ridiculed, but still on the margins of society.  On the trip, the entire community was brought together.  Even Éowyn, despite her duties leading the group, took time to chat with people as she passed their campsites or during the long marches.

            Rian, for her part, spent the journey reminiscing and pondering what Gandalf had told her.  Saruman's betrayal was a grievous blow to the free peoples of Middle Earth; he was a powerful enemy.  Over and over, she mulled over the cause of Mithrandir's change of color.  It was as if he'd taken Saruman's place as leader of the Istari, but how could that happen?  It went beyond explanation, at least without more information.  
            Aragorn's part in the journey was scarcely less confusing.  For a Hobbit to be part of the whole enterprise, they would have had to start in the north, which was closer to the Dúnedain and Imladris, but it still made little sense.  The Rangers had watched over the Shire for many generations, so perhaps Aragorn had encountered the Ringbearer there.  Mithrandir, too, had dealings with the Hobbits, so perhaps the connection was the Hobbit Ringbearer.  The connection to the Shire at least made some sense, but how had the Ring come to be there in the first place?  Elewen had always been curious, and the whole matter puzzled her to no end.

            Leaving the unanswerable questions about current events, Elewen let her mind wander further back.  She had been in Middle Earth as long as any of the Noldor, but had usually spent her time among Men rather than other Elves.  The others fought the shadow in their own ways, fending off Orcs and keeping their lands safe, but Elewen had taken her own approach.  She had gone among Men, teaching them better ways of farming, how to care for themselves, and teaching a few students the art of healing, at least as much of it as Men could learn in their short lifespans.

            A shout brought Rian out of her musings.  An older woman had stumbled and looked like she was in pain.  Rian hurried over to see what she could do.  Fortunately, the wound was not bad, and no bones had broken.  After bandaging the woman's leg, Rian arranged for her to ride on a neighbor's horse, then left her some herbs that would lessen the pain.  The journey was difficult on everyone, but especially the elderly and the children.  The flight to Dunharrow was one of desperation, and despite its difficulty, there was no time to stop and rest, even for the old and injured.  

            As they continued their march, Rian let herself wander a little further away from the rest of the Rohirrim, and lost herself in thought again.  This time, her thoughts turned to Valinor*.  Many ages ago, she had followed Finwë to Valinor and had lived in the light of the Trees.  Elewen had taken care of Galadriel when Galadriel was a child, and she had always been close to the house of Finwë—too close.  It was out of loyalty to that house and especially to Galadriel that she'd followed Fëanor when he left Valinor to search for Morgoth and the stolen Silmarils.  She suppressed a shudder as she remembered her part in the Kinslaying.  Discretion was not the only reason she carried two swords.  The one she'd brought from Valinor, one she'd carried in her youth, still bore the stains of Elven blood.  The Valar had forgiven them and made it possible for the Noldor to return after Morgoth was cast out, but Elewen hadn't been ready to return.

            Even now, Elewen had her own reasons for not returning.  Like the others who'd remained, she was reluctant to leave the place where she'd worked and suffered for so long.  Still, she was beginning to grow weary of Middle Earth and of being alone.  She could have returned to her people, but she had never quite fit in with them, either.  That was another reason she hadn't returned to Valinor.  She had often spent time with other Elves, but had always returned to life among Men before long.  Her closest friend among the Elves had been Celebrían, but Celebrían was in Valinor.  It was good that she was there and not dead, but it meant that Elewen was more alone than before she'd left.**__

            Elewen still felt some residual guilt for not being there when Celebrían was injured, but she knew her presence wouldn't have made a difference.  She had taught Elrond to heal, and he had gone far beyond her teaching to be one of the greatest healers in Middle Earth.  It was thanks to his power and love that Celebrían had survived long enough to go into the West.

            Abandoning her reflections, Rian caught up with the rest of the group and started chatting with several bored children who were getting into trouble.  She soon ended up with a small child on her back and several more clustered around her.  Their company was a welcome change from her dark memories.  Their parents were simply glad they weren't getting into trouble anymore.

            By the end of the first day, one of the children became sick.  He was only three years old, and he had quite a fever.  Elena was the first one to see him, but she couldn't get him to take the healing herbs that would strengthen him for the last leg of the journey.  His mother had three other young children, and it was all she could do to stay on her feet herself.  Rian appropriated a horse-drawn cart that was currently carrying luggage and moved enough luggage out of it to fix a bed for the small child.  She stayed up with him most of the night, until Elena insisted on "relieving" her sometime in the wee hours of the morning.  Elena was strong and Rian would never be able to explain that she didn't need the rest without revealing herself, so gave in without much fuss.

            When she returned in the morning, Christa was sitting with the little boy, placing cool cloths on his forehead and giving him as much tea as he would swallow.

            "How long have you been at this, Christa?"

            "Just a few hours.  I figured Elena could use a little more sleep."

            "You two are incredible.  I would have been content to sit with him all night.  I've done it many times and survived every one, even when it was several days in a row."

            "You're not as young as you once were."

            "No, I suppose not."  In reality, her body didn't show any signs of age, but her soul certainly did.  She was tired, just not in the way Christa thought.

            "I'll look after him while you get ready for the day.  As long as we make good time, we should be in Dunharrow by evening."

            "Let me know if you need anything."

            "I will."

            With that Christa slipped off and Rian leaned over the little boy, feeling his forehead.  His fever was very high.  Most likely he would have fallen sick whether or not they'd left on the journey, but the travel wasn't helping.  After glancing out the door of the tent to be sure no one was watching, she started singing softly, calling on healing power that her young students would never understand.

            The little boy slept through the rest of the trip, but it was a more peaceful sleep than the night before.  Rian spent most of the day by his side, getting him to sip as much water and tea as she could.  By evening, his condition had improved remarkably.  As evening fell, the group stopped to rest and Éowyn walked back to where Rian was sitting with the boy.  The girls were keeping his sisters and brother occupied while their mother took a few minutes to rest.

            "How is he?" Éowyn asked.

            "Much better.  His fever has broken."

            "That's a relief.  I'm surprised it broke so quickly."  Rian just shrugged.  Such things were unpredictable even when she wasn't involved.  "We're only a few hours from Dunharrow.  Do you think he's strong enough to finish the trip tonight?"

            "He should be fine.  He may have a bumpy bed, but he's been resting all day, so a few more hours shouldn't make much difference.  He seems to sleep through most anything."

            "I'll spread the word.  I'd rather not have to camp here tonight and finish tomorrow.  It's amazing how long a trip like this can last when you're on foot."

            "And with such a group.  Men on foot could make the trip quickly, but with children and old women and men, any journey is slow."

            "I know.  Spread the word as you get the opportunity.  We'll push on for Dunharrow tonight."

            Rian nodded, and Éowyn slipped off into the evening.  They reached Dunharrow by midnight and set up camp.  There would be a lot of rearranging, but at least they didn't have to do it all over the next night, as would have been the case had they camped on the road a third night.  The healers watched over the little boy through the night, but by morning he was well enough to stay with his mother without the healers hanging over them.  Even Christa and Elena were surprised at how quickly he'd recovered, but fevers rarely followed any rules, so they didn't think much of it.

* The Noldor were the people of Finwë.  He led them to Valinor from Middle Earth in the early days of Middle Earth, and they lived there in peace for many years.  In those days, Middle Earth had no light except starlight, because the sun and moon had not yet been created.  Valinor was lit by the light of two Trees, which kept it in eternal light.  Fëanor, Finwë's son, was a great craftsman, and he captured the light of the Trees in three jewels—the Silmarils.  Morgoth came to Middle Earth and destroyed the Trees and stole the Silmarils, killing Finwë in the process.  Several of the Valar (divine beings) chased him, but gave up when it became apparent they wouldn't catch him.

            Fëanor and his people weren't content, and they left for Middle Earth to get the Silmarils back.  Fëanor and his brothers took an oath to get the jewels back, which Galadriel did not take, even though she went with them.  That oath led to most of their deaths.  In their haste, they killed the Teleri, who had the ships they needed to return to Middle Earth.  Because of their role in the Kinslaying, the Noldor were banned from returning to Valinor.  Eventually, they were pardoned, except for the ones who had taken the oath, which why Galadriel was allowed to return after the War of the Ring.  She and many of the other Noldor still in Middle Earth had remained to continue to fight Sauron, even after they were pardoned and allowed to return.

** Celebrían, who was Elrond's wife and Arwen's mother, was wounded and poisoned in an Orc attack.  She left for Valinor because of the trauma she'd faced.


	4. Four

A/N: Thanks for the reviews.    I know people are reading because of the hit counter, but I'd love to hear from more of you.  I'm still looking for ideas on how to modify the summary to make the story more appealing, and I'd welcome any advice.  Enjoy!

Chapter 4

            The next few days passed in a flurry of housekeeping.  Éowyn worked late into the night organizing the camp in Dunharrow, and in the chaos, Rian frequently worked through the night.  Anyone who would have noticed was busy with other things, so she was able to help with anything that needed to be done.  She tried to keep a low profile, but, along with Éowyn and several of the stronger young women, often helped with the heaviest of tasks—putting up tents, hauling water, and moving heavy luggage.  The only men there were old, and despite their attempts to help, the women were usually able to do the tasks more quickly without them.  Just like the trip there, there were occasional bumps and bruises, and even a few more serious injuries.  One young woman sprained an ankle and another broke her arm, but besides that, the injuries were minor.

            After several days, the routine changed yet again.  Most everyone had lost track of the days, but the camp was finally almost in order.  The change in routine was due to new arrivals.  Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli arrived accompanied by a party of Dúnedain.  Rian was still helping to tend bumps and bruises from the process of setting up camp, and she stayed out of the way during supper.  Later that night, she turned a corner to catch a glimpse of Aragorn talking to Éowyn.  Éowyn looked upset, but turned and walked off into the night.

            Hesitantly, Rian walked over to where he was standing.  "Aragorn?"

            "Lady Elewen, it is good to see you again."

            "I've told you before not to call me lady."  A memory of a twelve-year old boy trying to not call her 'lady' during sword practice came to mind.  She struggled not to smile at the memory.

            "I know."  Aragorn nodded.

            "I hope there is no trouble," she said, glancing in the direction Éowyn had taken.

            "Éowyn seeks what she cannot have."  Rian nodded.  She needed no more explanation.  She'd seen the looks Éowyn had given him when he'd first arrived.

            "It is good to see you grown into a man.  You were no taller than my shoulder when I last saw you."  Rian changed the subject.  It was none of her business, anyway.

            "And you are shorter than you were then."

            "It is part of the illusion.  The Rohirrim would wonder if I stood shoulder to shoulder with Éomer."

            Aragorn chuckled.  "I suppose they would.  I hope now I would prove a better swordsman than I did then."

            "You learned well enough for a boy.  I wielded a sword long before Elrond was even born.  I hope my teaching, combined with others, was enough for you…" She trailed off, then continued.  "This is the end, isn't it?  This war will determine the fate of Middle Earth."

            "Yes.  I fear for Minas Tirith.  It may yet fall, yet the ultimate outcome of the war rests on the Ringbearer."

            Rian sighed.  "I feared as much.  I have fought Sauron and Morgoth before him for many years by healing and spreading light where I could.  It seems that the time for that has passed.  This is a time for a sword."  Aragorn nodded, and she continued.  "You plan to take the Paths of the Dead."  It was a statement, not a question, but Aragorn nodded in confirmation.  "Let me come with you."

            "I have already denied Éowyn that request."

            "She is bound to these people.  I am not, nor do I fear the ghosts of Men."  

            "What of your students?"

            "They no longer need me.  There comes a point when the student must start doing rather than listening.  The Rohirrim will support them even without me."  
            "If that is your choice, I will be glad to have you at my side.  I have no question that you understand what you are undertaking, so I will not insult you by asking."

            "Thank you.  If this truly is the end, and I believe it is, then I don't want to sit by while it happens without lifting a finger."

            "Nor would I expect it of you.  We'll leave first thing in the morning."

            "I'll need a horse.  The one we have is not fit for war, and I want to leave him with the girls, anyway."

            "I'll see to it.  You may need to ride with one of us."

            "That isn't a problem."

            "Very well.  I will see you in the morning.  Good night, Elewen."

            Rian turned into the night, slipping silently back to her tent.  She had planned to speak to Aragorn and to travel with him from the time he entered camp, but it would be hard to make her students understand.  She had left Valinor in pursuit of Morgoth, and he was chained, unable to meddle with Middle Earth, but Sauron remained.  Elewen had left Valinor primarily because she was loathe to stay behind and leave Galadriel alone, but she could not blame her fate only on that, nor did she try.  She, too, had been convinced by Fëanor's high-sounding speeches, which were really echoes of Morgoth's lies, though none then had realized it.  If only…she abruptly shut her mind against the dark memories.

            Rian entered her tent to find the girls sitting up, giggling over Legolas.  She sighed, but didn't say anything.  She didn't need to, either.  They knew she was exasperated.  She sat down slowly and looked at them.  "Do you understand why they are here?"  She didn't need to explain who she meant by them.

            "They wouldn't tell anyone."

            "Not their exact destination, but their purpose is clear.  They are here for war.  War is a cruel thing.  I hope you never see it."

            "You haven't, either, have you?  There hasn't been any war in Rohan since long before you were born—at least not one desperate enough to involve the women."

            "It has been far longer since I was born than you realize.  I have seen far too much war."  Without giving them a chance to ask what she meant, she continued, "They will be leaving in the morning, and I intend to go with them."

            "What?"

            Both girls stared at her, speechless for a minute, then Christa found her voice, "You don't know how to fight, Rian.  What would you do in a war?"

            "I've always told you not to assume things you don't know for certain."  Rian got to her feet and walked over to her bundle of possessions.  She pulled out the long bundle that hid her sword.  "I don't carry a sword simply to scare people away."

            "Protecting yourself from thieves isn't the same as fighting in a war!"  The only time they had ever seen her with a sword had been when she scared off thieves or meddlers when they were gathering herbs in the woods, and she'd never had to use the sword she carried.  Only a few times had she needed more than to simply carry it, and they had been while she was alone.  Children's rhymes chanted in Sindarin were surprisingly effective at scaring drunken Men off.

            "Again, I'll ask you not to assume what you don't know for certain."  Rian untied the clothes from around the sword.

            "Isn't that your sword over there?"  Elena pointed toward the sword in the opposite corner.

            "It was, but it's yours now.  Ask Éowyn to teach you to use it."  Rian finally withdrew the sword in its jeweled scabbard, setting aside the bow, quiver of arrows, and long knife that she'd packed with it.  Both girls gasped.  They had never seen such finery.  Rian held it up so they could see the flowing inscription along the length of the blade.

            "The likes of this has never been made in Middle Earth.  This was made for me in Valinor in ages long before your comprehension."  She glanced down, and her features seemed to shift.  Her hair went from gray to raven, the lines disappeared, and her features took on a nobility only found in the Eldar*.  The girls just gaped.

            "I am an Elf.  I have simply disguised myself as human.  I have spent much of my life teaching many people like you to heal, but the time has come for me to leave here.  You've learned everything I can teach you, and it's time for me to fulfill an old debt."

            "Elf?  Debt?"  Elena was the first to find her voice. 

            "You've had enough time to gawk at Legolas—you don't need to stare at me like I've sprouted wings."  Softening her tone, she sighed and sat down, sheathing the sword.  "None of your people remember back so far, but I will tell you the sad story of the First Age and the downfall of the Noldor, my people.  When the Elves first awakened, there was no sun or moon.  The only light came from the stars.  The Valar soon came to us and took us to Valinor.  During those blessed days, Valinor was lit by two Trees that glowed with light higher and more pure than such as the sun or moon offer."  She sighed wistfully before continuing.  "My people had a love of fine crafts.  We made jewels beyond your imagining."  She ran her finger along the jewels on the scabbard and hilt of her sword.  "These are only a hint of what we had there.  Our ultimate creation was the Silmarils, jewels of unparalleled beauty.  In them, we captured the light of the Trees.

            "Morgoth, the evil one, of whom Sauron is only a shadow, envied the light of Valinor.  He came to Valinor, killed the Trees, and stole the Silmarils.  The Valar chased him, but soon turned back.  Fëanor, who created the Silmarils, urged us to chase after him, and soon anger ruled out over reason.  Fëanor and his family took a vow to regain the jewels at any cost, and the doom of that vow found us ere we ever left Valinor.  In our haste to return to Middle Earth, we killed our own kin to secure the boats we needed.  That, above all, is the reason the Noldor were banned from returning to Valinor.  The rest of the story is simply one war after another, with nothing gained and the Silmarils lost forever.  In the end, Morgoth was chained and we were forgiven, but some of us stayed in Middle Earth to continue to fight Sauron and his minions.  So, you see, I know war.  I am weary of it, but this is a war that must be fought, and I am still an Elven warrior."

            The girls gaped at her.  They probably hadn't comprehended most of the story, but the point was made.  She was an Elf, and her place was in the war, not waiting behind.  Christa had an excellent memory, and she would remember the words until she could make sense of them at another time.

            Sighing, Elewen let her thoughts wander to the morning.  The girls didn't know that they were taking the Paths of the Dead, and when they learned, they would think she was committing suicide, and there wouldn't be time to explain tomorrow.  "There is one other thing you need to know.  We are going to take the Paths of the Dead."  She continued on before the girls could protest.  "It is not a death errand as some think it is.  I will not die from that journey.  The ghosts of Men have no power to harm me."

            "What will we do without you?" Elena asked.

            "I think you'll find the Rohirrim more supportive of you than you expect.  They've never really helped us, but we haven't needed it."  The people paid them as they could, often with wool, vegetables, or sometimes chickens.  Whenever they had been short on food, Rian had gone hunting.  The lack of support was not from apathy, but simply because they hadn't needed it.  "There's no reason you can't survive without me.  You already know everything I can teach you.  Even if not for the war, it would be time for me to move on.  Trust yourselves."

            Letting the girls ponder that, Elewen turned back to her things, finding some traveling clothes.  As in days of old, she didn't even bother with a split skirt.  This was a tunic with pants.  She left them ready for the morning.  She also found a small pack.  In it, she placed a few healing herbs, some _lembas_ from the last time she'd visited Lothlórien, and a water skin.  She also laid out the light armor she had received from Thingol in Doriath**—a mithril shirt that she'd wear under her clothes.  In this age, it was probably worth a king's ransom, but she had no desire to sell it.  Once her things were ready, Elewen slipped back out of the tent, giving the girls space to think about what she'd told them.

* Eldar: Elves

**  More background will come on this in later chapters.  Doriath was an Elven kingdom in the First Age, and Thingol was its king.  It was destroyed during the First Age.


	5. Five

A/N: I've modified the summary again to include the final pairing (Gandalf/Elewen).  I'm sorry to spoil the surprise, but I'm hoping it may raise interest in the story.  Please don't let it scare you off.  Thanks go, as always, to my reviewers.  Enjoy!

Chapter 5

            Elewen didn't bother to restore her human image as she left the tent she shared with her students, and just wandered through camp, realizing she might never see these people again.  As she neared the edge of camp, she saw Legolas.  She walked over to where he was standing.  He was singing softly, but stopped as she approached.

            "Don't stop," she told him, and when he started again, she joined him.  After a minute, he stopped and turned to face her.

            "You've quit your illusion."

            "Yes.  I'm to travel with you tomorrow, and I tried to explain it to my students.  I doubt they ever will understand, but at least they know there's a reason I'm leaving them so suddenly."

            "Why are you coming with us?"

            "I need to be part of this war.  Surely you know the story of the Noldor.  That should be explanation enough."

            Legolas nodded.  He hadn't known she was a Noldo.  It made sense that she would want to participate in some way.  "Why are you joining us now, in this way?  Most of the Noldor are in Lothlórien with Galadriel."

            "Galadriel is one of my closest friends, but I have always made my way among Men.  I am a healer and a teacher, and it seemed an appropriate task to teach them the art of healing."

            "So why are you stopping?"

            "The battle is at hand.  The time for healing is over.  It is time for me to fight."

            Legolas nodded.  He understood her reasoning.  He had stayed in Mirkwood, fighting the darkness there, for many years, but now he was in the midst of the war, fighting.  It was little different from her quitting her healing work here to join them in the war.

            The two Elves spent most of the night chatting about everything from the war to the flowers in different parts of Middle Earth.  Elewen told him tales of Valinor and the   
First Age, while Legolas told of the Fellowship and Mirkwood and its adventures in the last age.  He also told Elewen more about Aragorn, whom she had known only briefly when he was a boy.

            When Legolas didn't mention it, Elewen finally asked him about his friendship with Gimli.  "How did you come to be friends with a Dwarf?"

            "We were at odds from the moment we arrived in Rivendell, but along the journey, somehow, we became friends.  Galadriel treated him kindly, and for her sake, he became more open to Elves.  We have become friends since then."

            "It is unfortunate that such hatred exists between our peoples.  Even I, who know from whence it came, find it difficult to overcome.  Especially now, the free peoples of Middle Earth must stand together, not divided.  I wish you could have seen Moria at its height.  It had a splendor of its own."  Legolas glanced away.  "What is it?"

            "My memories of Moria are dark.  A Balrog lives there."

            "A Balrog?  What happened?"

            "If not for Mithrandir, we would have all died."  Noticing her confusion, he continued, "He fell in battle with the Balrog."

            Elewen nodded.  She understood now.  "He fought the Balrog and triumphed, though he fell, too."  Legolas nodded, confirming her assessment.  "His work in Middle Earth wasn't finished, so he was sent back, but different from before.  That is why he wears white instead of grey."  Legolas nodded again.  "What happened with Saruman?"

            "He had been in league with Mordor through a Palantír.  Mithrandir faced him and cast him down.  We left him in Orthanc with Wormtongue.  The Ents had sacked it before we arrived."

            "Ents?  Somehow, knowing that they are fighting with us gives me hope.  Whatever happens, I know that even the ancient powers of Middle Earth, forgotten by many, are with us."

            The two Elves chatted for a while longer, then Elewen returned to her tent about an hour before dawn.  The girls were asleep, but only lightly.  She entered silently and lay down to sleep for a few minutes, not bothering to close her eyes for the first time in many years.

            Elewen woke as the girls began to stir.  Blinking a few times, she sat up and called, "Good morning," to the sleepy young women.  Christa groaned, but then turned her head and looked at Elewen and suddenly remembered the previous night's conversation, becoming fully awake instantly.  Elena, too, woke up quickly.

            "Please tell me I dreamt everything you said last night, Mistress Rian," Christa said.

            "Unless you've had dreams beyond what I told you, I'm afraid not.  I am leaving with Aragorn shortly."

            Christa looked like she wanted to object, but she seemed to change her mind.  "I wish you weren't going, but I hope everything goes well for you.  Please be careful."

            "I will.  The same applies to both of you."  With that, she started packing her things.

            Just as she was finishing, Christa spoke up, "Rian?  Is that really your name?"  Elewen chuckled, as much at the slip of Christa calling her by her name and not "Mistress" as the question.  "No, it isn't.  My name is Elewen.  It means maiden of the stars."

            "Is that because the sun and moon weren't created yet?"

            "Yes, it is.  I always had bright eyes, and, with my dark hair, they reminded my parents of the stars."

            "It suits you," Elena put in.

            "Thank you."  Finishing her packing, Elewen stood up.  She fastened the sword and knife to her belt and slung the bow and quiver over her back.  The girls followed her outside, but found a bit of a surprise.  It was odd for all three of them for the girls to suddenly be half a head shorter than Elewen.  Elewen had hidden her height as well as her features, and now suddenly she was much taller.

            They walked together to where the Dúnedain were preparing to set out.  Aragorn nodded to her from where he was checking the straps holding his saddle in place.  One of the Dúnedain walked over.

            "Lady Elewen, I am Halbarad.  You may ride with me if you so desire."

            "Thank you, Halbarad."

            Turning back to her students, Elewen hugged each of them.  She slipped a small, heavy bag into Elena's hand and gave a small, glittering necklace to both.

            "My parents gave these to me when I left Valinor in hopes that I would give them to my daughters.  I've never married nor felt compelled to do so, but the two of you have become like daughters to me.  I wish you both the blessing of the Valar."  Indeed, she was closer to these two than she had been to any human before.  Turning, she mounted behind Halbarad.  She heard Elena gasp as the girl opened the bag and found in it a handful of gold pieces—enough to support them for several years.

            Glancing up, Elewen caught Elrohir's eye.  Legolas must have explained her presence to the younger Elf.  She had known Elladan and Elrohir throughout their lives, and they knew her habit of going among Men, but she was glad she wouldn't have to explain the entire story later, though they probably would have figured it out easily enough without explanation.

            Just as they were ready to depart, Éowyn came and begged Aragorn to take her with them.  Elewen pulled her hood up over her head as Éowyn approached.  Aragorn denied her gently, reminding her of her duty to her people.  Éowyn, like most of her people, thought this was an errand of death, and wanted to go with them so she could at least die with Aragorn.

            Éowyn did not seem to notice the presence of a hooded rider behind Halbarad, and Elewen was grateful to go unnoticed.  She didn't want to interfere with the situation.  Elena and Christa would explain everything to their lady later, and Aragorn knew how to handle the lovestruck Lady of Rohan.  Still, Elewen's heart broke anew for Aragorn, as well as Éowyn.  Aragorn not only bore the weight of Éowyn's infatuation, but also the knowledge that Arwen would sacrifice her immortality to marry him.  Without another word, the party rode off toward the dark path they must take.


	6. Six

Chapter 6

A/N: While I will usually try to keep Elvish conversation in italics, I've left it off for this chapter because there is a lot of Elvish, and I know it can be awkward to read long passages in italics.  The language will be clear from context.

Greywind Elf, the phrasing about the sack of Isengard is actually more or less book verse.  It's not a phrase we use very often in modern English, but if you think of it as a short form of ransack, and it may make more sense.  Thanks for the note!

Special thanks go to Samus for pointing out some typos and other errors.  Several previous chapter have been updated to correct them.  If you see any other errors, please point them out so I can fix them.  Enjoy!

            For Elewen, the journey through the Paths of the Dead was relatively uneventful.  She knew the Men felt the terror of the dead, but for her, not even death itself held any terror any more, much less the ghosts of Men.  She had no great desire to die, but she would gladly give her life for a worthy cause.  She was tired, ready for a rest, but part of her wasn't willing to leave Middle Earth yet.

            A voice in the back of Elewen's mind questioned if that was the reason she'd wanted to come on this journey—to die.  After a moment's deliberation, she knew that that wasn't her reason after all.  She was coming for the exact reason she'd told Legolas, Christa, and Elena.  She had opposed Morgoth as long as he'd been in Middle Earth, and now she opposed Sauron in any way she could, and in this late hour, that meant with a sword.

            Elewen rode silently behind Halbarad through gloom that even she and Legolas felt until the party came to a standing stone.  They had to dismount and walk the horses to the Dark Door.  Elewen stayed beside Halbarad as he entered the caves.  She was dimly aware of Legolas and Gimli following behind them, but mostly she walked in silence, not willing to disturb the place with speech.  Aragorn stopped once to investigate the bones of a Man long dead, then summoned the dead to follow them, but otherwise the journey was a quiet one for Elewen, even though it was difficult for the Rangers and terrifying for Gimli.

            Eventually, they exited the caves and mounted again.  The Elves could see the Dead following them, but it was no comfort to the mortals.  Emerging from a ravine, they entered the Morthond Vale and rode hard for the Hill of Erech.

            At the stone of Erech, Aragorn blew a silver horn and summoned the dead.  "Oathbreakers, why have ye come?"

            "To fulfill our oath and have peace," they answered him¹.

            "The hour is come at last.  Now I go to Pelargir upon Anduin, and ye shall come after me.  And when this land is clean of the servants of Sauron, I will hold the oath fulfilled, and ye shall have peace and depart forever.  For I am Elessar, Isildur's heir of Gondor."

            With that, he signaled Halbarad, who unfurled a black standard.  They camped there that night, but few rested.  The shadows hung too heavy around them.  Not even trying to rest, Elewen wandered the camp quietly, soon finding Legolas.  Like her, he was wandering the camp quietly, restless.  The sons of Elrond were taking their own counsel, and the Rangers were trying to rest, so only Legolas and Elewen were about.  They walked a little ways away from the camp so they wouldn't disturb what little rest the others were getting.

            "How did Gimli fare on the journey through the caves?  Whenever I glanced back, I didn't see either of you."  Elewen asked in quiet Sindarin.

            "It was difficult for him, but it is over.  It is no surprise that you didn't see us.  You were near the front and we were at the very rear.  Even I am glad that it is over."

            "It means that we are that much nearer to Minas Tirith and the end.  I am ready for a battle.  Hopefully it will ease my restlessness."

            "Why are you so restless?"

            "I am torn between restlessness and weariness.  I have been in Middle Earth for a long time now, and I am becoming weary, but I am also restless.  My restlessness comes from a desire to fight the servants of Sauron.  I have done this by healing since long before you were born, but the time has come to fight with a sword."  Elewen glanced down at the sword on her hip.

            "Did you bring that from the West?"  Legolas asked.  He had noticed the workmanship, which rivaled any he'd ever seen, even in Lothlórien.

            Elewen nodded.  She drew the sword slowly, careful to keep it quiet.  "Do you see the stains?"  Legolas nodded.  Even in the dim light he could see blood stains on the elegantly engraved blade.  No Man would have seen them, but the faint outlines remained for Elven eyes to see.  "They are the blood of Elves.  They remind me of what I am fighting for and why I remain here.  Morgoth's lies drove Fëanor to rebel against the Valar and lead us here.  It is our own fault for listening to him, and our folly for trying to take the Teleri ships by force, but it was Morgoth who killed the Trees and Morgoth who told Fëanor the lies that caused him to come here, chasing the Silmarils.  The Silmarils are gone and everyone who took Fëanor's oath is dead, but a few of us remain.  I, for one, will fight as long as I can."

            Legolas nodded.  He knew the story of how the Noldor had tried to regain the Silmarils after Morgoth stole them.  They had gone to their kin, the Teleri, and asked them for ships to return to Middle Earth, but the Teleri had refused.  Fëanor had led his people to try to steal the ships, and the Teleri had defended themselves.  Even the Noldor who had held back and not tried to steal the ships were drawn into the conflict when they approached and found the Teleri fighting their own people.  Not knowing how the fight had started, they fought to defend their kin, killing the Teleri.  Even after that, the Valar offered them mercy, but few took it, too proud to return.  It was an Age later when Morgoth was cast out and the Noldor were forgiven.

            "May I ask you a difficult question?"  He asked.

            "Why did I go with them and why didn't I turn back when I had the chance?"  Elewen filled in for him.  Legolas nodded.  "I was young then, and hotheaded.  I might have turned back, though, if not for Galadriel.  I took care of her when she was a child, and even then, I felt responsible for her.  It was stupid—she could take care of herself, but I wanted to stay with her, to take care of her.  I realized soon that she didn't need any help from me, but I was too proud to admit it, so I stayed with her for most of the First Age."

            "What then?"

            "While we were in Doriath, I grew to know Melian quite well.  She taught me the art of healing, and when I left there, I started going among Men and teaching them to heal.  I continued that until we left Rohan just days ago.  My reasons for staying aren't much different from any of the others.  We have toiled long and spilled our blood to protect this land, and like them, I have been reluctant to leave it after so much hardship and pain.  I've spent time among other Elves from time to time, usually in Imladris or Lothlórien, but mostly I've stayed among Men.  I knew Celebrían well, and Galadriel and I are still friends, but Elena and Christa are my closest companions now."

            Legolas nodded.  Doriath was an ancient Elven stronghold.  Thingol, one of the most ancient of the Elves, had married Melian, a Maia, and they had created a kingdom in Middle Earth.  When war came to Middle Earth, Melian had surrounded Doriath with the Girdle of Melian, a ring of power around the kingdom that kept strangers from entering without permission.  Doriath had stood through most of the First Age, but even it had fallen eventually.  "So you've been living in Rohan, and this war simply found you?"

            "Essentially.  I knew trouble was brewing, but I didn't realize it was so near, nor so serious.  The first real word I had was when you and the others came to Edoras.  If I had known the danger was so near, I probably would have gone to Lothlórien and spoken to Galadriel, but things seem to have turned out as well as possible, despite the lack of warning.  As long as I'm part of the war, I'm content."

            "You could have stayed in Rohan.  Théoden is mustering his forces even now."

            "Even if they would have taken me on their muster, I would not have had a place.  They do not understand the Elves.  The only way I could have joined them would have been pretending to a man, and I have lived illusions for long enough.  No, I need to be here.  Here, at least, I can fight without them worrying over a woman in battle.  They would not understand that I do not need their protection, and they would have placed themselves in danger to give me protection I do not need."

            "I understand.  Their loss is our gain.  Somehow, I feel that you will be a powerful ally in battle."

            "I was one of the better fighters of the Noldor before we left Valinor.  I would like to thing that my skill has grown since then."

            "Then I know we will be better off for your presence."

            "I hope so.  The last sparring partner I had was Aragorn, and he was only twelve at the time."

            Legolas chuckled at that, and the two Elves chatted about minor things for a few minutes, then parted and tried to rest, with little more success than the others.

¹ Taken from Return of the King p. 68 with minor changes.


	7. Seven

Chapter 7

A/N:  Again I haven't italicized the Sindarin conversation because it would be a lot of italics and hard to read.  Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter.  Laureline, thanks for the vote of confidence.  I'd love to hear from all of you, so please let me know what you think!

            The next day Aragorn's party rode on, pushing into Lamedon.  They dead would have overtaken them that day but for Aragorn's command.  Elewen spared a glance back from time to time.  The Shadow army followed them quickly.  They all moved at the same speed whether they were mounted or on foot.  They stopped only momentarily at Calembel upon Ciril, then continued through the night.

            The next day came without dawn.  The sky was brown and the very colors of things seemed to fade to gray.  Even if the war had not found Elewen, she would have known it was happening if that were the only sign.  Mordor was growing strong if it could even cover the sky to hide the sun.  There was a feeling of sullenness and danger in the very air.  Still, they rode hard, resting only when necessary.  Elewen usually found Legolas and Gimli when they rested.  She found herself growing to like the Dwarf, despite her misgivings and memories of past strife.  Likewise, she found herself strangely drawn to Legolas.  It had been a long time since she'd had any close Elven friends, and his friendship was welcome.  

            The next day, they came to Linhir, where the men of Lamedon were fighting soldiers from Umbar and Harad.  Both friend and foe fled at their approach, fear of the dead filling all of them.  The lord of Lamedon was the only one to stay, and Aragorn told him to follow once the dead had passed, and to join him at Pelargir.  After a short rest, they continued.

            As they finally approached the Sea, the Elves were the first ones to hear the gulls.  Their cries carried on the wind.  Elewen didn't think much of it, but when she glanced back towards Legolas, she noticed a faraway look in his eyes.  She knew immediately that he'd heard the call of the Sea.  It was a strange feeling for her.  She'd finally found a friend, but after hearing the call of the Sea, he'd never be content to stay in Middle Earth.  Unless she finally did leave for Valinor, they would eventually be parted.  Elewen resolved to not allow herself to grow too close to him just as they finally reached Pelargir.

            The Umbar fleet was anchored at Pelargir.  The Umbar army was large and desperate now that they were cornered, but just then Aragorn called the Shadow Host forward.  The Dead swept around the Dúndain, the Umbar army fleeing before them.  Those that survived fled south.  Seated behind Halbarad, Elewen had little to do but watch as the dead fought for them.  As she watched Aragorn that day, she saw echoes of Melian and Lúthien.  Númenor's blood ran true in him.*

            They freed the slaves, chained to the ships, and comforted them as the Shadow Host withdrew.  They were no less terrified than those who had fled, but their chains did not allow them to flee.  Aragorn released the Dead, saying, "Hear now the words of the Heir of Isildur!  Your oath is fulfilled.  Go back and trouble not the valleys ever again!  Depart and be at rest!"¹  With that, the Kind of the Dead broke his spear and his host faded away.

            Finally that night, the Dúnedain were able to rest.  The slaves and men from the area gathered once the Dead were gone, and they prepared the ships to depart in the morning.  Again, Elewen found Legolas as the others rested.

            "You've heard the call of the Sea," she said in Sindarin.  It was a statement, not a question.

            "Yes, but it will be a long time before I depart.  What is it?"  He noticed the look on her face.

            "We have become friends, you and I, but I do not think that I am ready to return."

            Legolas stepped closer to her.  "I will not leave for a long time.  Surely there is some way…"  He hadn't thought through the ramifications of leaving on his relationship with Elewen.

            "We are not speaking simply of friendship, are we?"

            Legolas was a little surprised by Elewen's comment, but didn't back away.  Instead, he moved closer to her, until he was standing only inches away from her.  He was taller than her, but barely.  He looked in her eyes, trying to gauge her reaction.

            Elewen met his eyes, unwilling to look away.  After a moment, she leaned marginally closer to Legolas.  It was the hint he needed, and he slid his arms around her waist and kissed her.  He lifted his head after a moment and she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

            "This should not happen," Elewen muttered against his shoulder.

            "I find it difficult to care.  Somehow we will make it work."  Elewen leaned against him, allowing herself to believe it, at least for the moment.  She'd been alone for so long, and it was a relief to have someone care about her.

            Legolas rested his chin on the top of Elewen's head, pondering what had just happened.  He knew in the rational part of his mind that any relationship between them was unwise.  He knew the call of the Sea would not leave him.  Galadriel had warned him about the calls of the gulls, and he understood her warning.  Despite that call, Elewen was not ready to depart.  He didn't fully understand why she wanted to remain, but her desire seemed firm.  Still, for the moment, he pushed the rational reasons away, choosing to ignore them.

            Legolas tried to reason why he was attracted to Elewen. She was an enigma; that was certain.  He remembered someone in Dunharrow mentioning a child who had been very ill recovering overnight.  Undoubtedly, the Rohirrim didn't think much of it, but he suspected it had been thanks to Elewen.  If she had stayed with Galadriel through the rebellion of the Noldor, she must have crossed the Helcaraxë, grinding ice and cold that took the lives of many of the Elves who made that journey.

            Despite her attributes, Legolas wondered if he was pursuing her more from his own loneliness than true love.  He had never married, not for lack of available Elf-maidens, but because none of them had caught his interest.  Elewen was a warrior, and that intrigued him, but it didn't mean true love.  The war had reminded him that he was alone, and would be even if he left for Valinor.  Eventually, Legolas pushed his misgivings away and chatted with Elewen for the rest of the night.  They walked along the river and enjoyed each other's company, but they didn't bring up the difficulties that their relationship would bring.

            The next day went slowly.  Elewen rode on the same ship as Legolas and Gimli.  The three of them sat together and chatted through the morning, trying to keep frustration at bay.  Without wind, the ships moved slowly, and there was little hope they would reach Minas Tirith in time.  Gimli was aware that something had changed between the two Elves, but he held his tongue.  Legolas and Gimli took turns at the oars from time to time, but the Men manning the oars wouldn't allow Elewen to help, so she rested while they were on the oars, again reflecting on the way Men perceived women, even Elf-women.  It was the reason she could never have ridden with the Rohirrim.  At least Aragorn understood that she could fight.

            That afternoon, Elewen was standing with Legolas and Gimli at the helm.  Their conversation had dwindled, and Gimli had a defeated look in his eyes.  He'd even ceased giving them curious looks out of the corner of his eye.  There was no way they would make it to Minas Tirith in time.  Suddenly, Legolas laughed.  "Up with your beard, Durin's son!  For thus it is spoken: _Oft hope is born, when all is forlorn._"²  Gimli asked him to explain the comment, but he wouldn't.  Elewen realized the change only moments after Legolas.  The wind had shifted.  She could smell the salt of the Sea.

            Hours later, the wind reached them, and the ships hoisted their sails.  The wind grew, until the ships were speeding towards Minas Tirith with foam at their prows.  That night, while Gimli was resting, Legolas and Elewen slipped into the hold to find the closest thing to privacy that was available on the ship.  They spent the night talking and occasionally kissing, enjoying their newfound relationship, but wondering what the morning would bring.  Ever in the backs of their minds were nagging doubts, not about the battle to come, but what the future would hold for the two of them.

*  Lúthien was Melian and Thingol's daughter.  She married a human (Beren), and their daughter, Elwing, bore twin sons, Elrond and Elros.  Their sons were allowed to choose whether to be human or Elves.  Elrond chose to be an Elf, but Elros chose to be human.  He was the first of the Númenoreans, from whom the Dúnedain are descended.

¹ Taken from Return of the King, p. 168.

² Taken from Return of the King, p. 169.


	8. Eight

A/N:  Thanks to San Antonio Rose for a very helpful review.  You make a lot of good points and I'll work on your ideas as I have time.  I have fixed a couple typos on the footnotes (chapters 3 and 7).  Luthien married Beren not Eärendil and Celebrían did recover from her wounds but was too traumatized to remain in Middle Earth.  I don't know that I'll act on all of your points because some of them would be awkward to work around at this point in the story, but I'll see what I can do about some smaller changes.  Still, thanks for your thoughts.  I appreciate reviews like that.

            Thanks, too, for the other reviews.  Enjoy!

Chapter 8

            When morning came, Aragorn's party was ready for battle.  They had seen the red glow of fire from Minas Tirith all night, and it grew more intense as they approached.  The wind that brought them to the city also cleared the gloom from the sky, and there was light when they approached the city mid-morning.

            To the city's defenders, the black sailed ships looked like reinforcements for the enemy, but as they approached, Aragorn raised a new standard.  It bore the White Tree of Gondor and the Seven Stars and crown of Elendil.  Even the Elves stared at it in awe, for no one had borne those symbols for a very long time, even in their reckoning.  In that moment, Elewen knew there was hope—hope for Men, and for Middle Earth.  Aragorn's childhood name, Estel, served him truly, even now.  The word meant hope, and hope had not deserted them. 

            Aragorn was first off the ships, but barely.  The Dúnedain were close behind him, and Legolas, Gimli, Elladan and Elrohir, and Elewen.  The forces of Mordor found themselves caught in the midst of three forces: Aragorn's from the north, Éomer and the Rohirrim from the south, and Prince Imrahil and the forces of Dol Amroth from the east.

            Elewen drew her sword and knife before she was even off the ship.  She threw herself into the fray, blades flashing.  The ages hadn't dulled her skills with her blades at all, nor had they dulled the excellent blades.  She had always preferred to use one long sword and a shorter knife.  It gave her flexibility.  She had used a shield before, but it was cumbersome and it wasn't useful to counterattack.

            Elewen stayed with the Dúnedain for a while, but she soon found herself driving deeper into the fray, away from the Dúnedain.  Her mithril armor deflected a few stray arrows, but she would soon be surrounded by orcs.  She might have been able to turn around and make her way back to them, but it would have been as dangerous as continuing.

            In the midst of the battle, Elewen's mind flashed back to her new relationship with Legolas.  In the free corner of her mind, she pondered what would happen to him if she were to die there.  He might care for her, but not so much that he would die from grief if she fell in battle.  In the light of day and in the midst of the battle, she finally admitted to herself that she didn't truly love him, and never would.  She might be lonely, but she would never fall in love with Legolas Greenleaf.

            With that realization, Elewen threw herself deeper yet into the fray, swords flashing faster than most of the orcs could even comprehend.  She knew a stray arrow or blade would probably hit sooner or later, but it was inconsequential.  While she had no desire to die, death would not be a tragedy for her, either.  She had fought Morgoth and Sauron with her life, and if her death would help to stop Sauron, then so be it.  She would do what she could to stay alive, because as long as she was alive, she could keep fighting, but Elewen had nothing to lose, and it made her a deadly force on the battlefield.

            Eventually, Legolas, Gimli, Elladan and Elrohir fought their way to Elewen's side, and the five of them continued to slaughter orcs and Men who served Mordor.  Legolas gave her an odd glance when he finally reached her, but there was no time to talk or even ponder the situation, and both put it from their minds.  They fought for the entire day, and it wasn't until nightfall that the battle was finally over.

            In the exhaustion after the battle was finally over, Elewen made her way to Éomer's side.  She let him see the illusion she'd worn among the Rohirrim so he'd recognize her.

            "Rian?"  Éomer was exhausted, and thought he was imagining things.

            "Yes, my lord, though my name is actually Elewen."

            "What are you doing here?"

            "I came to fight.  I rode with Aragorn on the Paths of the Dead from Dunharrow."

            "You are obviously no simple healer."  There might have been brighter things to say, but Éomer was too exhausted to think of any.  Elewen let the illusion fade. 

            "You are right.  I am one of the oldest Elves in Middle Earth, and one with a grudge against Sauron.  I would not pass up such an opportunity to fight Mordor."  Elewen glanced up to see Aragorn and Prince Imrahil looking at them.  "I believe your sword-mates are waiting for you."

            "And yours for you," Éomer said, glancing behind her at Legolas, Gimli, and Elrond's sons, before he turned to rejoin Aragorn and Imrahil.

            Elewen turned and walked back to her friends.  Legolas looked at her oddly again, but didn't say anything.  Pushing aside her own weariness, she wiped as much grime as she could off her face.  "Take your rest, but I am going to help with the wounded."

            Legolas shook his head, smiling through the grime that covered him as thickly as it did Elewen.  "_You will not do it alone_," he spoke in Sindarin, then continued in the Common Tongue.  "Come, Gimli, let us find a place to rest."

            Indeed, after he was certain Gimli was asleep, Legolas returned and helped with the wounded, as did Elladan and Elrohir, for Aragorn had sent for them.  Elewen was grateful for the chaos of the night.  She had abilities that the humans from the Houses of Healing would never comprehend, and she had no desire to explain herself to them.  It also meant they were less likely to question the presence of another Elf.  The healers worked through the night, and the numbers of wounded also gave Elewen some privacy to work in her own way.

            Coming to a young man, she knelt over him, examining a wound in his stomach.  It was a fatal wound, and she had no desire to cause him additional pain, so she didn't probe much after realizing that it was mortal.

            "How bad is it?" the young soldier asked, coughing and wincing in pain.

            "Bad."  Elewen didn't try to hide it from him.  He had a right to know he was dying.

            "Is there anyone who can take a message to my family?"

            "I'm sure there is."

            "My wife went into labor just as I left for the fight.  She was a little worried because she miscarried our last baby, and our little son just died, so she's with her mother at her parent's house.  The Houses of Healing were so full…  Her name's—"

            "Wait."  Elewen sighed.  This boy had too much to live for, and he couldn't have been more than twenty years old.  She would not be the one to take news of his death to a young wife.  Elvish healing could not heal all ills, but she had lived in the light of the Trees and learned healing from the Melian herself, and the Maia had been a good teacher.  Kneeling beside the boy, she spoke quiet words in Quenya.  Pouring out all her power, Elewen repaired the damage and closed the wound.  She would not let the boy die.

            When she was finished, Elewen collapsed back to sit on her heels.  A moment later, Legolas was beside her, helping her up.  He had been aware of what she was doing, and he helped her to a quiet place where she could recover.  He left to check on the boy, and returned a moment later.  "_The boy will be fine.  Once he's rested, he should be ready to return to his family._"

            Elewen nodded weakly.  The boy would require some time yet to heal, but he would recover.  "_Thank you for checking on him.  I need a few minutes to rest, but I don't need help.  You should rest yourself._"

            Legolas nodded and kissed her lightly before slipping off into the night.  Elewen rested for an hour, but soon returned to help the healers.


	9. Nine

A/N: Thanks to Karina and KnowInsight for the reviews on chapter 8.  Enjoy!.

Chapter 9

            Legolas left Elewen supposedly to rest, but rest was far from his mind.  The events of the day kept running through his mind.  He had known that Elewen was Noldor, but she was more complex than he'd imagined.  He'd been impressed by her swordsmanship when they'd entered the battle, but when she'd thrown herself into the thick of it, he'd known something had changed.  She hadn't been trying to die, but she hadn't cared if she did die.  The implications of that were confusing, to say the least.

            There was also the matter of Elewen's healing abilities.  The Elves were known as powerful healers, but her abilities were greater than what he'd expected.  She'd told him that Melian had trained her in Doriath, and Elewen seemed to have learned well from her Maia teacher.  Even in the midst of the battle, he'd seen glimpses of something… different.  There was a glimmer of power in her that he'd seen in only a few others, Galadriel and Mithrandir among them.  He had the feeling it would have taken more than an arrow or even a poisoned orc-blade to stop her.

            Legolas tried to imagine living in Valinor.  He looked forward to going there eventually, but here in the middle of a war, the reality of it was very far off.  He would never see the Light of the Trees like she had, nor would he ever know the sight of Valinor before it was marred.  Elewen had told him tales of Valinor and it sounded like bliss.  She'd also told him about Beleriand and the rest of Middle Earth in the First Age, before Númenor ever came to be and before the world was changed.  She'd lived in Doriath under Melian and Thingol's protection.

            It was an interesting twist of fate that Elewen had come to Doriath in the first place.  She'd followed Galadriel to Middle Earth and then to Doriath, but had left there at Melian's urging to go among the Men of Middle Earth and practice what she'd learned from the Maia.  Melian had suggested it mostly for training, but Elewen had made it her life's work.  It was a strange thing for an Elf to devote her time almost exclusively to helping Men, but it seemed to suit Elewen.  Despite her power, she seemed to stay in the shadows, figuratively.  She had no great desire for power, not any more.  Over the course of many years, any desire she'd had for power had faded, and her desire was to help silently, without being noticed, because notice would hinder her work.

            Legolas pondered this revelation.  Elewen could have had her own kingdom, but she didn't desire that kind of power.  He would never be a tyrant, but Legolas was a leader, and he dreamed of leading a people of his own.  Where and when, he didn't know, but he hoped for it some day.  With Elewen, it was different—she didn't want power.

            Legolas finally came to the realization he'd been avoiding.  Elewen had great power to heal, but didn't want to command.  She might never return to Valinor, and he would not be content to stay in Middle Earth.  He had initiated a relationship with her not out of true love, but loneliness.  She had been there, in the midst of the war, and it had been easy to tell himself that he loved her, even when he didn't.  What he felt for her was friendship, not love that would last for an eternity.  She knew it, and she hadn't been worried about him when she went into battle.  She had found a cause worth living—or dying—for, and she knew his life could continue without her.  She wouldn't have minded if she'd died because she knew he would be all right.  He might grieve, but he would have survived. 

            Sighing, Legolas went to find Elewen.  There was still an hour until dawn, and he needed to talk to her.  He found her still on the battlefield, helping with the wounded.  The most serious injuries had already been seen to, and when he found her, she was wrapping cuts and scrapes.  She glanced up as he approached.

            "When you're free, could we talk?" Legolas asked quietly.  Elewen nodded, and finished what she was doing.  She could see the weight in his eyes, and she knew what it was he'd come to say.  She stood and walked over to him, and he led her away from the Houses of Healing and out towards the gates of the city.  Once they were far enough away for some privacy, he stopped.

            "_What is it, Legolas?_"

            Legolas considered his words carefully.  "_We have been friends and now more, but is it meant to be?_"  It was more blunt than he'd meant to be, but he could find no other way to say it.

            Elewen sighed heavily.  "_I do not think so.  You are a good friend, and I will always value that, but I do not think we should continue this relationship or marry.  We would not be happy._"  It was disappointing, but necessary.

            Legolas nodded.  It was the same conclusion he'd come to.  He pulled Elewen into a hug, holding her close.  They might have dismissed notions of a romantic relationship, but they were still friends.  They stood there for a few minutes, then walked through the fading night, making their way back to the Ranger camp outside the city.

            A few hours later, Legolas and Gimli went into the city to visit Merry and Pippin.  Elewen went with them to lend what aid she could to the healers.  In the morning's light and with less confusion than the night before, the Warden questioned her presence.

            "Lady, how does an Elf woman come to the midst of this battle?"

            "I came with the Dúnedain to fight in the battle.  I am well capable of fighting in battle.  After all, I am still alive."  He hadn't said it, but most Men considered women incapable of fighting, so she explained herself before he could ask.  Still, she didn't tell him any more than he needed to know.  She felt no need to explain herself to this Man.  "I am also a healer, and I wish to give you what aid I may.  I helped last night as well, but even an Elf is easy to overlook in such confusion as there was last night."

            "Of course.  There were two others who came at the lord Aragorn's call."

            "Yes.  They came with us on the journey here."  Elewen sighed inwardly.  This man was spending time questioning who she was and why she was there when they both could be helping with the wounded.  "Sir, I came to help with the wounded.  How I came here is of little importance."

            "My apologies.  If there is anything you require, please ask."  With that, he bowed and wandered off to some other task.  Exasperated, Elewen set to work, doing what she could for the wounded.  It was almost enough to make her hide herself as she had in Rohan, but she still would have had to explain her presence, and it wouldn't have helped much.

            The work that day was not as exhausting as the night before, but most of the healers had not rested and were working through a haze of exhaustion.  Elewen relieved them when she could, giving them at least a few minutes to rest.

            Midmorning, Elewen came to the boy she'd helped the night before.  A young woman was sitting beside him, a very small baby in her arms.  Elewen cleared her throat to announce her presence.

            "Maria, this is the lady who helped me last night!"  The boy's eyes lit up, then widened as he saw Elewen clearly for the first time.

            "Is this your family?"  Elewen asked.

            "Yes, lady.  This is my wife, Maria, and our newest little one.  Our little girl is with Maria's parents."

            "You must have had an exhausting time these last few days," Elewen said to the girl, who didn't look any older than Elena.  "How is the little one?"

            "She's small, and she was early, but I think she's all right.  She's nursing well."  The woman was clearly nervous around Elewen, but she answered the question as well as she could.

            "May I see her?"

            "Of course."  The girl handed the infant to Elewen.  Elewen took the baby carefully, looking her over for any signs of illness.  She'd delivered a lot of babies before, but it was always a strange sensation.  Elewen had always felt alone among Men, but she'd never been quite content among Elves, either.  It was always a strange feeling to see Men's children born.  It seemed like they were barely born when they grew old and died.  Frail as Men were in general, the baby was strong, but the mother looked exhausted.

            "I can watch her for a while if you'd like to rest," Elewen told her.  It was unlikely that the girl would leave the Houses of Healing any time soon, and her husband was in no shape to watch the baby.

            The girl hesitated, still in awe of Elewen, but nodded, too tired to argue.  She curled up on the cot beside her husband and quickly fell asleep.  Elewen sat down near them, rocking the baby.  There were no other pressing things she needed to do, and the young mother needed rest.  If not for her husband's injury, she would be resting with her parents, but she was here in the Houses of Healing, just another family member to the healers because she didn't look like she needed any assistance.

            An hour later, the baby started fussing, and Elewen woke the young mother to feed the infant, then slipped away, the father's thanks following her.


	10. Ten

A/N: Thanks to Rachel Evans and Heath for the reviews on chapters 8 and 9.  Heath, Elewen came from Valinor at the same time Galadriel did, along with the rest of the Noldor.  Additionally, this isn't an action story, and I don't intend it to be, so I don't plan on writing blow-by-blow accounts of the battles.

Chapter 10

            Elewen heard about the commanders' decision to march on Mordor later the day after the battle.  After cleaning up as well as she could, she found Aragorn in the Dúnedain camp outside the city, busy with preparations.

            "Lord Aragorn!"

            Aragorn looked up at her call.  "You ask that I not call you 'lady,' yet you call me 'lord.'  You have a double standard."  Aragorn chuckled.  "What may I do for you, Elewen?"

            Elewen smiled.  He'd hesitated a little, but hadn't called her 'lady'.

            "I would like to go with you when you march on Mordor."

            "I would be grateful for your presence.  We march the day after tomorrow with seven thousand."

            "So few…"

            "We are a distraction, and time is of essence.  We seek to draw Sauron's attention away from the Ringbearer.  Do you still wish to come?"

            "Yes.  I will trust your decision."

            "I have agreed to it, but the idea comes from Gandalf."  Elewen smiled.  It would take the wizard to march on Mordor with such a small force.  He'd always been one for slightly crazy ideas, and it made sense—they would draw Sauron's eye away from the Rinbearer.  "I will see that you have a horse."

            "I would be grateful for it.  Is there anything I can do to help your preparations?"

            "You have already helped at the Houses of Healing.  Only ready yourself, and it will be enough."

            "Very well.  If there is anything I can do for you in these next days, you have only to ask."

            "Thank you, Elewen.  I will."

            "I'll leave you to your work.  Thank you, Aragorn."

            With that, Elewen slipped away.  As she was walking back to the city, she saw Gandalf at what was left of the city gate.

            "Mithrandir!"  Elewen called as she approached.           

            Gandalf smiled, a genuine, if tired smile.  "Elewen.  It's good to see you.  I expected you'd make your way here one way or another."

            "You know me well enough to know I can't stay out of trouble.  I hear that the idea to march on Mordor with only seven thousand came from you?" Elewen asked, her voice light despite the weight of the matter.

            "Speed is of the essence, my friend," the wizard said, his smile fading.  "I know it seems insane, but it is as many as we can prepare at speed."

            "I did not mean to question your decisions, just the sanity of the one making them."

            Gandalf looked at her sharply before he started laughing.  "I've missed you, Elewen.  You always have enjoyed taunting me.  Why is that?"

            "Because you're easy to tease."  Even in Valinor, she had teased him.  Her parents and friends had been aghast when they realized it, but he hadn't minded, Maia though he was*.  He'd been refreshed by her carefree manner around him.  Few of the Elves would have dared to tease him.

            "I suppose I am.  It seems like ages since I've even laughed, even though I know it hasn't been nearly so long."  Gandalf faded off, and the two stood there in silence for a moment.  

            "Am I keeping you from your duties?" Elewen asked.

            "No.  I was just going to see if Aragorn needed any help."

            "I asked him the same thing, and he told me no."

            "I think I will go see if he needs anything, but I suspect the answer will be the same."

            "I'll wait for you.  We can walk back together."

            "All right."  Gandalf walked over to the tent where Aragorn had his work, but came out a moment later and walked back to where Elewen was waiting.

            "I take it he didn't need anything?" Elewen asked.

            "No.  Still, I wanted to check.  Prince Imrahil has taken command of the city, so suddenly I find myself with much less to do.  It is a relief from the chaos of the last few days."

            "Why hasn't Aragorn taken control of the city?"

            "He wants to wait to be welcomed by the Steward, and it will still be some time before Faramir recovers.  If he were to take command now, without the Steward's leave, it might cause dissent in the city."

            "So that's why he camped outside the city."

            Gandalf nodded, then changed the subject.  "Yes.  Aragorn has told me a little about your journey here, but how did it go for you?"

            "It was uneventful.  I rode with Halbarad from Dunharrow and helped as I could, but it was mostly a waiting game.  It was easier for me than the Men or Gimli.  The fear of the Dead was so heavy on them that they could barely make the journey."

            "Aragorn mentioned that it was difficult, but he didn't elaborate."

            "It was difficult, but it is over.  More than anything, I am grateful for the wind that rose up the night before last.  Without it, the city probably would have been lost."

            "I'm told that you were quite a force on the battlefield."

            "A warrior who has nothing to lose makes a dangerous foe."

            "Aragorn mentioned that you and Legolas had become close.  Surely you had more reason to live than you say."

            "Our relationship would never have lasted.  We were both lonely, but it would not have been enough."

            Gandalf nodded.  For some reason, the thought of them as a couple had not quite seemed right to him when Aragorn had mentioned it.  Changing the subject, he continued, "If all goes well, what will you do when this war is over?  Will you go into the West, or will you remain here?"

            "I'm not certain.  I haven't felt ready to return yet, but I am tired.  I've wanted to stay and continue to oppose Sauron, but if we do somehow succeed, I won't have a reason to stay.  Still, I'm not sure I want to leave Elena and Christa.  I've never been so close to any of my students before, not even Elrond, but I want to see them married and happy before I leave.  I don't know if that will ever happen, but I hope they find a way to have happy lives."

            "I'm sure they will.  I don't suppose there's much use in making plans when we don't even know what the next weeks will bring.  Still, I know your parents would be happy if you were to return.  They miss you."

            "I'm sure they would.  I will think about it, but you're right.  Now is not the time to make such plans."

            The two had made it back to the Houses of Healing.  "It was good to see you, Elewen.  You'll be riding with us the day after tomorrow?"

            "Yes."

            "I imagined as much.  While I might feel better if you were safe here, I'll be glad to have you along.  I doubt I could convince you to stay behind even if I tried.  Goodbye for now."

            "Goodbye."

            Elewen spent the rest of the day helping where she could in the Houses of Healing.  She didn't need the rest like the others who would be marching did, and it kept her busy.  That afternoon, she made her way to Éowyn's room.

            "Lady Éowyn?"

            "Yes?"  Éowyn glanced up, surprised to see an Elf there.

            "You don't recognize me, but that is no surprise."

            "Should I, lady Elf?"

            Elewen smiled.  It was just like she'd known it would be.  Éowyn was now treating her like royalty.  "No, I don't suppose so.  You've never seen me as I am now.  You knew me as the healer Rian."

            "Rian?"

            "Yes.  I covered my true form so I could go among you without drawing attention to myself."  Or suspicion, Elewen added silently.

            "You came with Lord Aragorn to the battle?"

            Elewen couldn't help but notice how Éowyn's eyes lit up at the mention of Aragorn's name.  "Yes.  We came through the Paths of the Dead and took the Umbar ships at Pelargir.  The wind was with us, and we arrived in time to help with the battle."

            "I wish I had seen it."

            "You were rather indisposed."  Elewen smiled.

            "Yes, but I feel useless."

            "You were hardly useless.  I've only heard a little about your battle with the Nazgûl, but what you did was an amazing feat.  It's a battle I would have feared, and I have been a warrior since times beyond your people's memory.  Do not belittle yourself."

            "The army is marching the day after tomorrow and I am to stay here.  It is the cage I have always feared."

            "You are still recovering.  Any man who has been wounded receives time to rest.  Why should you be different?"

            Éowyn just sighed.  Elewen knew she wouldn't convince Éowyn otherwise, but the Lady of Rohan was in no shape to go to battle.  Elewen was glad that she had not been injured herself and required to stay behind.  Restlessness was a feeling both women knew well.  "How is your arm?"  Elewen asked, trying to distract Éowyn.

            "Numb.  I am glad to be alive, believe me, but I still feel restless."

            Elewen sat on the side of the bed.  "I know.  I have been feeling restless now for several lifetimes of men, and now, at least, I know why.  I have been in Middle Earth longer than you can imagine, and some part of me knew war was coming.  Now that it has come, I can at least do something about it."

            "From the perspective of an Elf's years, our struggles must seem insignificant."  Éowyn's voice held a note of bitterness.

            "No," Elewen said firmly.  "I have made my life among Men for many centuries, and I have always cared about what happens among your people.  None of the races of Middle Earth exists in isolation.  When the Elves ignore the problems of Men, we only create trouble for ourselves.  We've proven that through experience.

            "Whatever else," Elewen continued, "this war is certainly not only the problem of Men.  It concerns all the free beings of Middle Earth.  Its outcome will determine the fate of Middle Earth."  
            Éowyn nodded.  "I suppose so…  Will you be going with them to Mordor?"

            "Yes, but I'll be nearby until then.  Did Christa and Elena explain to you why I left?"

            "Yes, they did, though their explanation was a bit confusing.  It must have slipped my mind with everything else these last few days.  I shouldn't have been surprised to see you here."

            "If anything should happen to me on the march, will you look after them?  They're able healers, and they should be able to support themselves, but I'm not certain if they're completely ready to fend for themselves yet."

            "I will as far as I'm able, but who knows what the future holds?"

            "Who indeed?"  Elewen said quietly, thinking back to her conversation with Gandalf earlier.  If even he did not know how this would turn out, then who was she to try to predict it?  Elewen certainly had no clue what the future held for her, much less Éowyn and her two students.

            Elewen sat quietly for a moment, then glanced back down at Éowyn.  "I should leave you to rest.  If you need anything, you can call for me.  The healers may not know my name or exactly what I am, but if you ask for the Elf woman, they should know who you mean.  Even with the chaos around here, that should be relatively clear."  Éowyn laughed a little at that, and Elewen slipped out of the room, looking for other work to do.

*  Gandalf and the other wizards were Maia (angelic beings, but less powerful than the Valar) send from Valinor to help fight Sauron.


	11. Eleven

A/N:  Thanks to KnowInsight and Rachel Evans for letting me know that there is still interest in this story.  I'd love to hear from more of you!

Chapter 11

            Time passed quickly, and soon it was time for the Host of the West to depart.  Aragorn had arranged a horse for Elewen, who immediately had it unsaddled.  She used a saddle when necessary, but she had never cared for them.  She rode with Legolas and Gimli in the vanguard.  They reached Osgiliath by noon, where reconstruction was in full swing.  The men on foot stopped five miles later, but the mounted force pushed on for the Cross Roads that evening.  

            The Cross Roads itself was a meeting place of four roads in the middle of a ring of trees.  To Elewen, it felt as if the very land were listening and watching.  It reinforced the sense of anticipation she'd been feeling now for weeks.  Even the trees and rocks knew something was afoot, and nothing good.  Aragorn had trumpeters announce them on each of the four roads, saying, "The Lords of Gondor have returned and all this land that is theirs they take back."

            There at the Cross Roads was a statue that was once a king of old, but its head was broken off and replaced by a carved orc-head.  Elewen joined the men in removing the orc-head and replacing the statue's rightful head, crowned in the flowers that had been growing over it.  She was grateful that they let her help.  Now, on the march to Mordor, they seemed to accept that she was there to help and to fight without trying to protect her as much as they usually did. 

            They rested that evening, waiting for the rest of the host to arrive.  Elewen sat with Legolas and Gimli for a while, but even now, on the march to Mordor itself, she was restless.  Soon she got up and walked off, wandering the camp until she found Gandalf standing at the edge of the trees.

            "Mithrandir?"

            "Eh?"  The wizard glanced over at her, startled.

            "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to startle you."

            "Don't be.  I'm glad for an interruption.  My thoughts have been dark of late, and a distraction is quite welcome."

            "What troubles you?  The War in general, or something more specific?"

            "Mainly worry over Frodo.  I cannot even imagine what he is going through right now.  Has anyone told you about him?"

            "Yes.  Legolas told me what he knew about him, and how the Fellowship came to be, until the four of you came to Rohan."

            "I suppose mostly I feel helpless.  It was at my urging that Aragorn is leading this army on Mordor, but I feel like Aragorn the first time you sparred with him—a child trying to take on an unassailable foe."

            "He was a little cocky then, wasn't he?"

            "Yes, he was."  Gandalf chuckled.  "He was quite good for his size, but I don't know if he realized how much his other teachers had been holding back."

            "When I came in and saw him sparring with Elladan, I knew he needed a little humbling."

            "I suspect it was even harder because it came at the hands of a woman."

            Elewen laughed lightly.  "At that age, a humbling at the hands of woman is hard 

for a boy, even one who has been raised by Elves."

            "He needed it."  Gandalf chuckled, and the worry seemed to lift from his face a bit.

            "You should have seen me when I learned to fight.  Galadriel wanted someone to spar with, so she convinced me to learn.  I wasn't very excited about it, but I was willing to try.  She must have thought I was an absolute idiot.  It took me what seemed like forever to even learn the basics."

            "It's a shame you had to learn."  The faraway look returned to the wizard's eyes.

            "It's over now.  I still feel guilty about everything that happened, especially leaving my parents while I was angry with them, but I've learned that I can't dwell on it."

            "They told me about the fight you had.  They were disappointed, but they aren't angry with you."

            "I know.  It's for their sake that I've been tempted to return, but I never really fit in, even there.  I've always felt a little out of place, even with other Elves."

            "Life among Men hasn't satisfied you either."

            "No, but I don't know where else I should go.  Anyway, I think we agreed now is not the time to make plans," Elewen chided gently, trying to lighten the conversation.

            "You are right, of course.  I suppose I ought to try to rest.  It seems that I can never sleep any more."

            "Would you like some herbs to help you sleep?"

            "No, but thank you.  Perhaps in a few days I will take you up on that offer, but at least for this evening, exhaustion should be sufficient to allow me to sleep, worries or no."

            "Goodnight, then."  Elewen returned to her bedroll and tried to rest, too.

            The next day, Elewen rode with the vanguard to look on the Morgul Vale.  The city there was lifeless, but still stank of evil.  They broke the bridge to the city and burned the fields at Aragorn's insistence before leaving.  If Elewen had not been convinced that her continued presence in Middle Earth had some value, the sight of Mordor would have convinced her.  Middle Earth needed all the strong bodies and wills that could be found to fight this evil.

            In a way, it was rewarding to feel that she still had purpose, but the realization didn't solve Elewen's loneliness.  During the long ride, she wondered to herself why she couldn't be content among the Elves.  She'd been happy as a child and even as a youth in Valinor, but about the same time as she'd started thinking about marriage, she'd begun to feel more and more isolated.  Elewen had always wanted children, but she couldn't seem to find someone to love, whether among Elves or Men.  She'd been telling the truth when she'd told Christa and Elena that she'd never had any real desire to marry.  She'd never found anyone she could truly love.  Her recent attempt at a relationship with Legolas proved that.  Perhaps that was the reason she hadn't returned to Valinor yet.  She knew what waited for her there, and she doubted she'd find fulfillment there, but she wasn't finding it in Middle Earth, either.  

            Elewen also hesitated to return to Valinor after so much had changed.  Middle Earth had never been her home, but Valinor did not feel like home either.  It would never again be the place she remembered, and returning would pose its own set of challenges.  She had never felt close to anyone there, even her family.  She had defied her parents and left in anger.  Making peace with them would be painful, though it might just allow her to feel she was finally home.

            They rode through the second day and into a third when their trail turned north.  They were careful to send scouts, both mounted and on foot, ahead and to the sides, especially on the east, where thickets and rocky land lay between them and Mordor.  Elewen took turns scouting, both because her Elven senses might give her an edge, and also to feel useful.

            The fourth day of the march, the scouts found a force of Orcs and Easterling Men.  Well warned, the army fought them easily, the horsemen coming around from the West to ambush the enemy's ambush from behind.  Aragorn thought it was a trick to make them underestimate the Enemy's strength.  That evening, when the army finally rested, the Nazgûl flew over.  Legolas and Elewen could see them, but even the Men could feel their presence.  

            That evening, Elewen found Gandalf sitting near one of the campfires.  "In a way, it is a relief to know that we are already found," she said, sitting down beside him.  "We needn't worry about secrecy and deny ourselves the small comfort of a warm fire."

            "You scarcely need it.  I, on the other hand…"  Gandalf held out his hands to the fire.

            "Has the journey been hard for you?"

            "Even now that I've returned," Gandalf didn't bother to fill in the rest—since he'd fallen in battle with the Balrog, "I still have the aches and pains of an old man, and even though I ride Shadowfax, the days on the trail still take their toll."

            "I'm certain they do.  Would you excuse me for a moment?"

            "Of course."  The wizard seemed a little confused at her abrupt departure, but not overly concerned.  Elewen slipped off and returned a moment later with her small pack and a bit of hot water from the cooking fires in a metal cup wrapped in a bit of cloth.  Sitting down beside him, she pulled out a few herbs from the back and dropped them into the water, then set the cup next to Gandalf.

            "Let it brew for a few minutes, then drink it once it's cool enough.  It should ease your aches."

            "Only you would think to bring such things, Elewen.  Thank you."

            "You're welcome.  It comes from experience."  Elewen had learned long ago to have smaller containers such as that cup with her while she was on the trail.  Pottery was easily broken, and stone was heavy, but the metal cup was relatively practical.  It got hot, so she had to wrap it in a scrap of cloth to handle it, but a waterskin wouldn't work for making medicinal teas.

            The two of them sat together in front of the fire for a long time in companionable silence.  Eventually, they went their own ways to try to rest.


	12. Twelve

Chapter 12

A/N: Thanks for the encouraging notes over the last few days, especially Karina and Rachel Evans.  Enjoy!

            Some of the content in this chapter is quoted from Return of the King, pp. 182-185.  I won't footnote the individual instances (otherwise the footnotes would take over the chapter).

            The next day, the sixth after they'd left Minas Tirith, the army of the West came to the end of Ithilien.  Ahead of them was a land that made the desert look like a lush forest.  It unnerved some of the soldiers so badly that Aragorn had to send them to Cair Andros, a mission of secondary importance, but one that did not require going into the desolation that was between them and the Black Gate.  With the force now less than six thousand, they advanced, staying close together, not bothering with scouts.

            They camped that night in the dead lands surrounded by smoky fires made from whatever scraps of fuel they could find.  Wolves howled around them, and no one could sleep.  There was no wind, and the air was close and oppressive.  Even the very ground seemed to give off noxious fumes.  It was as if the very land of Mordor was trying to drive them away.

            Seeing the dropping morale of the men who remained, Elewen moved to the center of the camp and began to sing.  She sang anything that came to mind, from children's rhymes to songs of Valinor at its noon* to songs of lost Númenor.  Some things she sang in Sindarin and Quenya, some in Rohirric, and a few in the Common Tongue.  Pippin even joined her and sang a few of the light-hearted songs of the Shire, even though his heart was not really in it.

            Gandalf sat nearby, listening with the others.  His mind wandered as Elewen sang.  Her songs reminded him of Valinor before Morgoth destroyed the Trees and before the Noldor rebelled.  He remembered when the Elves first came to Valinor.  Like all the Maia, he'd been amazed by them, the Firstborn of the Children**.  Elewen hadn't been a child when she arrived, but she had been young and carefree.  In those days, there was little evil in Middle Earth, at least as far as the Elves knew, and even there they lived in bliss in the light of the stars.

            When he'd gone among the Elves appearing as one of them, they hadn't usually realized what he was and they'd been carefree around him.  When they realized what he was, most of them had become deferential and cautious, much as Men were around the Elves.  Elewen, though, had treated him no different, teasing him at any opportunity.  Now, both of them were weary, but she still teased him.  It was a refreshing reminder of what had been so long ago.

            At times, Gandalf had even thought he fancied Elewen, but he'd always dismissed it as ridiculous.  Yes, Melian had married an Elf, but such a thing would not happen again.  He'd always told himself he was simply attracted to her carefree nature, but after she'd left with Fëanor, he'd regretted not saying anything to her.  Perhaps she might have stayed.  Somehow, though, he didn't think it would have mattered.  More likely, he would have destroyed the friendship they'd had.  Over the Ages, he'd convinced himself that what he'd felt for her was nothing more than an infatuation, but watching Elewen sing, he questioned it anew.

            Knowing she wouldn't rest any more than anyone else, Elewen continued for most of the night, until finally stopping to rest herself perhaps two hours before dawn.  As she walked away from the center of camp, Gandalf walked over to her.  "Thank you, Elewen."

            "No one was going to rest.  It was better than dwelling on the horrors of the night."

            The two of them had reached the edge of camp, just inside the ring of fires. "Even so, thank you."  Gandalf stood close to her, closer than he might have in another time and place, but despite the campfires, no one wanted to be too far from their companions that night.  Even the soldiers' bedrolls were clustered closer than usual.  Any other living presence was a comfort in the bleakness of Mordor.

            "Your songs reminded me of why we're fighting."

            "This whole march has reminded me of why I've stayed in Middle Earth.  Someone has to stay and fight, and I have as much reason to fight Sauron as any."

            "I know.  You could have abandoned Middle Earth long ago, but you've stayed.  I cannot help but fear for what tomorrow will bring."  Gandalf closed his eyes, sighing heavily.

            Elewen reached out to touch his arm.  He seemed to carry the weight of the world in that moment.  She squeezed his arm gently, and he opened his eyes to look at her.

            "If we are to die tomorrow, I do not want it to be with regrets," Gandalf said.  Elewen looked up at him, confused.  She could see the indecision in his eyes, but she didn't understand it.  After a moment, he seemed to come to a decision.  Stepping even closer to her, he touched her cheek lightly.

            Elewen held his eyes, too surprised to react.  Gandalf leaned down and kissed her lightly, and it was as if Elewen's world had turned upside down.  Startled and overwhelmed, she turned away from him, staring out toward the fires.

            "I'm sorry, Elewen.  I shouldn't have done that," Gandalf said, disappointed with himself for causing her distress.  "I won't touch you again without your permission."

            Elewen would have liked to tell him it was all right, that she wasn't offended, and to reassure him before they went into battle in the morning, but she was too overwhelmed to say anything, and she fled into the night, laying down near Legolas and Gimli, but not even trying to sleep.  She had never felt anything like that before.  She'd kissed Legolas a few times, but his kisses had never affected her the way this one with Mithrandir—Olórin—had.  She reminded herself of his other name.  She couldn't allow herself to think of him like a mortal being of Middle Earth.  He was a Maia.  That was why his kiss had affected her so—because she knew what he was.  She couldn't allow herself to fall in love with him.  It was preposterous.  A few times in the history of Middle Earth, an Elf had married a Man, but only once had a Maia ever married one of the Children**, and it had ended badly, with Thingol's death.  She would not let this happen.

            Elewen tried to ponder Gandalf's motivations.  Yes, they'd been friends in Valinor, but never more.  He knew it was crazy, but perhaps, like her short-lived relationship with Legolas, it was a response to the stress of the war.  That had to be it.  He would probably regret it by morning.  Elewen tried to shut down her thoughts and rest, but it as impossible.  There wasn't much point in pondering what had happened until she knew what the morning would hold. 

            The next morning, only a few hours later, Legolas and Gimli both noticed that Elewen was acting strangely, but there was no time to ask questions.  The army approached the Black Gate, which was closed tight against them.  There were no enemy soldiers to be seen, but all knew that they were there.  The only visible signs of the enemy were the Nazgûl hovering over the Towers of the Teeth.

            Expecting the worse, there was no choice for the Army of the West except to continue.  There was no retreat now.  Aragorn arranged the army on the two hills before the gate.  Once the army was in place, he took Gandalf, Elladan and Elrohir, Éomer, Imrahil, Legolas, Gimli, and Pippin with him forward.  Elewen hung back, knowing her presence was unnecessary.  Legolas and the sons of Elrond represented the Elves, and all the enemies of Mordor were represented, but Aragorn waved her forward.

            "The Noldor have fought and labored in Middle Earth longer than any.  You have a place with us today."  Elewen nudged her horse forward to join them.  She was grateful to be a part of this group, but she hadn't wanted to force her way in.  Elewen kept her eyes forward, but Legolas noticed the glance Gandalf threw over his shoulder at her.  Idle thoughts quickly faded as the small group rode to the gate.  The heralds unfurled Aragorn's banner and blew trumpets to announce themselves, though it was hardly necessary.  They called on the enemy to come forth and answer for his wrongs.

            Eventually, an ambassador came from within the gates.  He was dressed in black like one of the Nazgûl, but this was a living man.  "I am the mouth of Sauron.  Is there any one in this rout with the authority to treat with me?  Not thou at least!"  The ambassador looked at Aragorn, who met his gaze and held it.  What passed between the two men no others knew, but the ambassador flinched as if threatened.  "I am a herald and ambassador, and may not be assailed!"

            "Where such laws hold, it is also the custom for ambassadors to use less insolence," Gandalf said.  "No one has threatened you."

            "So thou art the spokesman, old greybeard?  I have tokens that I was bidden to show to thee."  The messenger gestured to his guards, who brought forward a small bundle, which he opened to reveal a short, Hobbit-sized sword, one of the grey cloaks of Lothlórien, and a small coat of mithril mail similar to the one Elewen wore, only sized to fit a Dwarf—or a Hobbit.

            Pippin cried out when he saw the things, obviously recognizing them.  Imrahil held him back.  His response fueled the Mouth's mocking even further.  "So you have yet another of these imps with you!  It is plain that this brat at least has seen these tokens before, and it would be vain for you to deny them now."

            "I do not wish to deny them," Gandalf replied.

            "Maybe he that bore these things was a creature that you would not grieve to lose, and maybe otherwise: one dear to you, perhaps?  His fate shall depend now on your choice."

            Gandalf stood silent for a moment, then answered in a clear voice, "Name your terms."  All close to the wizard could see the defeat in his features as the Mouth began reading his terms.  Elewen could see the anguish in his face, but she could feel it, too, as if it were her own.  If Sauron's messenger held these tokens, Frodo must have been captured.  If he had been captured, and the Ring with him, there was no hope for them.

            The messenger finished reading his terms—control over the entire West—then waited for Gandalf to reply.  The wizard's reply surprised everyone.  "This is too much to  demand for the delivery of one servant: that your Master should receive in exchange what he must else fight many a war to gain!  Where is this prisoner?  Let him be brought forth and yielded to us, and then we will consider these demands."  With sudden clarity, a thought came to Elewen: if Sauron had the Ring, none of them would be standing there to confront him.  The rout of Middle Earth would have already begun, starting first with the small party with the audacity to knock on the gates of Mordor.

            "Surety you crave!  Sauron gives none.  These are his terms.  Take them or leave them!"

            "These we will take!" Gandalf cried, throwing off his cloak, white light shining from him.  "As for your terms, we reject them utterly.  Begone!"

            With that, the messenger finally departed, and the battle was joined in earnest.

*  The time when the Elves were in Valinor but before the rebellion or the destruction of the Trees.

** A collective term that refers to the created beings of Middle Earth.  "The Firstborn" refers specifically to the Elves.


	13. Thirteen

A/N: I had been thinking that no one had reviewed chapter 12 until I read the note on the ff.net home page about a problem with review notifications.  Still, I was a little surprised not to get any more response for the last chapter.  I think this chapter will get your attention.  This chapter is rather dark, but it is 13 of 21 chapters, and **_there is a lot of story to come_**.

Chapter 13

Some of the text in this chapter is quoted from Return of the King, pp. 251-252.

            The host of Mordor poured out of the Black Gate as the riders scrambled back to the rest of the army.  Aragorn took one hill with Gandalf and Imrahil and Éomer took the other.  Elewen found herself in the forefront with Legolas, Gimli, and the Dúnedain.  Orcs and Men were not their only enemies.  Along with those foes marched hill trolls, huge and reckless.

            The Orcs crashed against them like waves on a ship.  No matter how many they slew, there were always more to take their place.  The carcasses were piled deep around them when a cry went up, "The Eagles are coming!  The Eagles are coming!"

            The Nazgûl fled as the Eagles approached, but it was not for fear of the Eagles.  Sauron's eye had fallen on the two small Hobbits on Mount Doom.  Even as they fled and the earth began to rock, Gandalf cried, "Stand, Men of the West!  Stand and wait!  This is the hour of doom."

            The enemy began to flee, and Elewen turned her attention to the sky, looking at the Eagles.  She knew what was happening—the Hobbits had reached Mount Doom and were on the verge of destroying the Ring.  The fate of Middle Earth rested not only on them reaching the mountain in time to destroy it, but also their will power and ability to throw it in.

            The Ring might have been the downfall of the Hobbits if not for Gollum, but a moment's distraction was Elewen's downfall.  While its comrades were fleeing, one little goblin decided to take revenge for his lord's defeat.  Taking advantage of Elewen's distraction, it slipped its sword up under her short mail shirt into her stomach.  The goblin pulled the sword out to attack again, but an axe cut off its head before it could attack.

            Gimli was closest to Elewen, and he saw her drop to her knees.  He chopped off the goblin's head then kicked it away.  He could see frustration in her face, but also resolution.  Using his shoulder for support, Elewen pushed herself to her feet, despite the rumbling of the ground.  Legolas saw what was happening and helped support her, too.

            "The realm of Sauron is ended!" Gandalf cried from his place on top of one of the hills.  "The Ring-bearer has fulfilled his Quest."  A black shadow lifted from Mordor, filling the sky, but then dissipated, blown away on the wind.

            Leaning against Legolas, Elewen muttered, "But not all is finished.  Help me stand."  Legolas was ready to help her to the ground, but she resolutely kept her feet under her.

            "The battle is over.  You can rest."

            "No.  I will not have him see me injured."  Elewen looked over at Gandalf, and Legolas began to understand.  "He has work to do, and I will not distract him from it."  Gimli, understanding, moved to stand between her and Gandalf, blocking the wizard's view of the blood pouring from her wound.  They were all blood spattered, but too much blood was spilling from the wound to be spatters from the battle.

            A moment later, Gandalf flew away on the back of one of the great eagles, and Elewen finally dropped to her knees, coughing with pain.  Legolas called for Aragorn, but Elewen shook her head.

            "It is mortal, Legolas.  There will be no bringing me back from this."  The poison from the blade was already spreading through her system.  She might have survived the poison, but not with such a serious wound.  Legolas helped her lay down just as Aragorn arrived.  "_Do not waste your time with me, Elessar.  Help the ones who may yet survive._"  Elewen's voice faded in a fit of painful coughing.  
            When she could speak again, Aragorn was still waiting over Elewen.  "Go!  I have lived longer than I could have ever hoped or even desired.  You cannot save me so go help those who still have hope."

            Finally, Aragorn left, and Elewen relaxed as much as she could.  "Legolas, before we left Minas Tirith, I asked Éowyn to look after my students should something like this happen.  Would you explain to them what's happened?"

            "Of course."

            "Where is my sword?  Someone should find it."

            "Here it is, lass," Gimli said, leaning over to wipe the blade on the ground.  There was no grass to speak of, but he managed to get the blood wiped off.  Gimli handed the sword to Legolas, who looked at it a little oddly.

            "What is it?" Elewen asked.

            "I cannot see the stains from before.  They are gone."

            Elewen laughed weakly.  "Perhaps it is a sign that I should go into the West."  She laughed, not bitterly, but dryly.  "There is no choice for me now.  Soon I will be in the Halls of Mandos*."

            Indeed, this was perhaps the greatest irony.  Despite the fact that Manwë had forgiven the exiles, the stains that still remained on Elewen's sword had often restrained her from thinking more seriously about returning.  They were symbols of her own guilt, which even Manwë's pardon could not remove.

            "Would you see that someone takes my sword into the West?  Mithrandir may wish to take it, but whoever carries it, my parents will wish to have it."

            "What happened between you?" Legolas asked.

            Elewen turned her head.  "Something that mustn't happen."

            Legolas looked at her, surprised.  She hadn't said it in as many words, but he knew what she meant.  There was little else that could have caused her to act as strangely as she had that morning.  He had known Elewen and Gandalf were friends, but he hadn't realized it went further.

            "Why can't it happen?"  Legolas was surprised at the revelation, but somehow it seemed right.  He and Elewen could never have had a lasting relationship, and he would have liked to see her happy.  It should have seemed strange to Legolas, but instead it felt right, despite the fact that he'd been seeing her only weeks earlier.

            "What?"  Legolas couldn't be that dense.  "He's…"

            "I know what he is.  I'm not stupid.  Still, why is it such a problem?"  Elewen couldn't believe she was hearing this.  The whole idea of it was crazy, especially now that she was dying.

            Elewen shook her head.  "It doesn't matter now."

            "Can you hold on at least until he returns?  He will want to see you before…" Legolas let his voice trail off.  He didn't need to say it—Gandalf would want to see her before she died.

            "I suppose I owe him that much."  They had always been friends, and even without what had happened the night before, she knew he would want to say goodbye.

            Elewen fell asleep after Legolas had seen to her wound, staunching the blood loss so she could make it a few hours longer.  Late that afternoon, she woke to a commotion.  Gandalf had returned with the two Hobbits.  Legolas ran to where the Eagles had left them, talking to the wizard quietly.  The soldiers nearby couldn't hear what was said, but they all could see Gandalf pale.  He leaned on his staff heavily for a moment, then stood straight and called for Aragorn, entrusting the two Hobbits to the king for the moment.

            That detail arranged, Gandalf hurried over to Elewen.  Blood loss had left her weak, so weak that she didn't try to raise her head, but just turned to look at him.  She smiled weakly.

            "I'm sorry, Elewen.  I should have realized you were hurt."

            "You had other obligations.  You couldn't have saved me.  How are the Hobbits?" 

            "They will be fine.  Someone else could have gone after them."

            "It wouldn't have mattered.  I would still be dying."  Elewen reached for his hand.  "Take my sword back with you.  Give it to my parents and tell them that I love them."  Elewen paused, unsure of what to say next.  She squeezed his hand.  "I'm sorry I pushed you away," she whispered.  Closing her eyes, she finally surrendered and breathed her last.  Gandalf brushed his lips across her forehead, then stood slowly, wandering away in a daze.

*Essentially the Halls of the Dead.  It was a holding place for the dead rather than a place of punishment.  The only punishment for the Elves was separation from their bodies.  The Halls of Mandos were in Valinor, but the dead were not free to leave, though occasionally they were sent back.  Glorfindel is one of these—he died in the First Age protecting the refugees from Gondolin, then returned and is seen in Rivendell in the Third Age.


	14. Fourteen

A/N: I hope I haven't scared off too many readers with the last chapter.  Like I said in the last chapter, **there's a lot more story to come**.  I'm posting chapters 14 and 15 together because they are a little short and so that I can keep the story moving.  The main plot will pick up again in chapter 16.

 Chapter 14: Interlude

            Life in Middle Earth went on without Elewen.  Legolas saw to her burial, for which Gandalf was grateful.  The wizard thanked him privately, but said nothing about the relationship he'd started with her.

            Indeed, only a few people noticed Elewen's absence.  Arwen came to Minas Tirith and married Aragorn, and Éowyn agreed to marry Faramir.  Gandalf was subdued, but many of the soldiers didn't even realize that something had happened, and those who did, for the most part, did not know what had happened.  To most, he seemed simply even more tired than before.

            Legolas told Galadriel about Elewen's death.  The two had been friends for many years, and Galadriel was saddened to hear that Elewen had died.  She spoke to Gandalf about it once, but let the matter drop when she saw how reluctant he was to talk about it.  She realized that something must have happened between the two of them, but didn't know what.  With no answer forthcoming, Galadriel let the matter rest, not wanting to ask the wizard to dwell on an already painful subject.

            Legolas sought out Éowyn when they returned to Minas Tirith.  She was in the Houses of Healing, not as a patient, but helping the healers.  "Lady Éowyn?"

            "Lord Legolas, what may I do for you?  Have you seen Rian—Lady Elewen?"

            "That is why I came here."

            "Has something happened to her?"

            Legolas nodded.  There was no easy way to tell it, so he said simply, "she died in the final battle."

            Éowyn paled, startled.  "I don't suppose I should be surprised.  She seemed to expect it.  She asked me to look after Christa and Elena should this happen."

            "She wanted me to ask you to do just that."

            "Yes, she mentioned it once, but just 'in case anything should happen.'  I would have watched over them in any case.  I'll tell them about it when I return to Edoras."

            When the King's party returned to Edoras, Legolas went with Éowyn to tell the young women about their teacher's death.  Christa was working outside when they approached, on her knees in the garden.

            "Welcome back!" she called, getting to her feet and brushing herself off.  "Where's Mistress Rian?"  Christa looked back and forth between them, realizing something was wrong when she saw their expressions.  "Elena!" she called loudly, not caring if she was shouting.  Soon the other girl came out of the house and stopped cold when she saw Éowyn's face.

            "What's happened?  It's Mistress Rian, isn't it?  She's gone, isn't she?"

            Legolas nodded.  Elena closed her eyes and swallowed hard.  "I knew this would happen," she said softly.  Christa collapsed into Éowyn's arms, sobbing.  Elena brushed a hand across her eyes.  "I knew my parents.  They died when I was ten, but Christa's parents died when she was only a baby.  Mistress Rian—Elewen—was the only mother she's ever known."

            Legolas stood and watched for a moment as the two young women wept, then slipped off as Éowyn tried to comfort them.  He had little experience with such things and didn't even know the two girls.  Christa found him later that evening.

            "Lord Legolas?"

            "Christa?"

            "I wonder if I could talk to you, my lord."

            "Of course." The girl was nervous, but she obviously had something on her mind.

            "How well did you know Mistress Rian—Elewen, I mean?"

            "Until we came here, I had never met her.  Elessar knew her better than I did.  They had met when the king was a boy.  On the ride for Minas Tirith, I…came to know her well."

            "You fancied her, didn't you?"

            "You are too perceptive for your own good, young one."  Legolas smiled, wanting her to know for certain that he was only jesting.  "Yes, I thought for a while that I could love her, but it was not meant to be."

            "Why not?  You're both Elves."

            "That doesn't mean that we would automatically love each other."

            "I'm sorry.  That was a stupid thing to say."

            "Don't apologize.  No, we both thought it might work, but I think deep within, she knew.  I don't think she admitted it to herself until she was dying, but she loved another.  She wouldn't allow herself to admit it, though, and I expect that was why she was always restless.  She always thought he was out of her reach."

            Christa nodded.  She was curious who it was, but it wasn't any of her business, so she didn't ask.  When she didn't speak for a few moments, Legolas changed the subject.  "What will you do now?"

            "I don't know.  Elena has always fit in here, but I've never quite felt like I belonged—like Mistress Rian, in a way.  I don't know where I would go, but perhaps the healers in Minas Tirith would have a place for me."

            "Perhaps, but I expect they have sufficient healers there, especially with Elessar now ruling the city, and they would likely be reluctant to take in another."  Christa dropped her eyes, disappointed.  Legolas could see that she was serious about her desire to leave.  "Faramir and Éowyn plan to settle in Ithilien, and I will be bringing some of my people there, as well.  I think you would have a place there.  Speak to your lady if you think you might like to go there."

            Indeed, that is what Christa did.  When Éowyn left Edoras to marry Faramir, Christa went with her.  She accompanied them to Ithilien, where she became the healer for the newly established community there.  She was saddened to leave Elena, who had been like a sister to her, but it would have been difficult to support both of them in the same community.  Edoras was a large community, but not really large enough to support the two healers.  The two young women quickly realized how much Elewen had done to supplement their income, often hunting to bring in extra food and probably with gold, too.

            The move was challenging for Christa.  At only fifteen, it was a monumental project, but it was what she wanted to do with her life.  Elena helped her extensively, but there was more work to do than she could have imagined.  The gold Elewen had left them went to buy supplies, and Éowyn helped her, too, providing cooking utensils and lots of advice.

            Elena sent seeds for all the herbs the healers used with Christa.  Elewen had always insisted they have extra seeds on hand in case the garden was damaged, and they had enough to split so Elena was able to keep her own supply as well as sending some with Christa.  Éowyn arranged a small house for her, including a garden plot.  Establishing the new garden was probably Christa's biggest challenge in Ithilien.  It was always difficult to grow herbs from seeds, and growing an entire garden anew required a lot of patience, as well as stock supplies of all the same herbs so she had some to use while the new plants were growing.

            Another challenge was getting the new community to trust a fifteen-year old girl with their health.  Again, Éowyn proved to be one of Christa's best allies.  Both Éowyn and Faramir supported her as much as they could, and their trust in her carried over to their people.  They also provided food and anything else she needed when times were tough and her work didn't provide enough food.

            Despite the fact that she was making her way in an adult world, Christa's best friend in Ithilien turned out to be Bergil, whose father was Beregond, Lord Faramir's captain.  The ten year old boy seemed to have boundless enthusiasm and energy, and he helped her in long hours in the garden and carried wood and did whatever else he could to help her, whether or not she needed the help.  Sometimes Christa thought that it was only the boy's friendship that saved her sanity during the long, hard first years there.

            Life passed for Christa and Elena much as before.  Now they worked alone where before they had turned to Elewen for guidance, but they enjoyed their lives, despite the hard work and the fact that they had no husbands or parents to provide for them.  They missed Elewen, but they learned that what she'd told them was true—they could have learned little more with her there.  The rest they had to learn on their own through experience.  Despite insecurities, somehow they managed.


	15. Fifteen

A/N: I've posted this and chapter 14 together.  Please see chapter 14 for notes.

Chapter 15

The quotations in this chapter come from Return of the King, pp. 346-347

            As Elewen's students got on with new lives in Rohan and Ithilien, the Ringbearers prepared to depart Middle Earth forever.  Frodo and Bilbo would go with the Elves to Valinor, the first Hobbits to ever go there.  They had borne the Ring of Power, and had earned a rest.  Bilbo and Frodo were both worn out, Bilbo from his long life, and Frodo from the difficulties of bearing the Ring to Mordor.  Often his old injury, inflicted by a Morgul blade, pained him, and life in Middle Earth, even the Shire, was difficult.  Two years after the War of the Ring, Frodo and Sam rode to meet Elrond and Galadriel on the road.  The two Hobbits rode with the Elves to the Grey Havens.  

            When they arrived in the Havens, the two Hobbits saw a figure wearing all white.  Gandalf was waiting for them.  They had not known that he would sail with them, but they were relieved to see him.  Now that there was no need for secrecy, all could see a red ring on his finger.  It was Narya, the Third Ring, which he had borne far since his arrival in Middle Earth.

            Merry and Pippin arrived only a moment later, much to Frodo and Sam's surprise.  Pippin explained, "You tried to give us the slip once before and failed, Frodo.  This time you have nearly succeeded, but you have failed again.  It was not Sam, though, that gave you away this time, but Gandalf himself!"

            Gandalf nodded.  "Yes, for it will be better to ride back three together than one alone."  As he spoke, the Hobbits noticed a weariness in the wizard that seemed odd.  He'd seemed subdued on the road back to Rivendell from Gondor, but now he seemed exhausted.  The revelation that he bore Narya seemed to explain it, though, so they thought little more of it.  "Well, here at last, dear friends, on the shores of the Sea comes the end of our fellowship in Middle-earth.  Go in peace!  I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."

            Indeed, the hobbits shed tears as Frodo left them, but despite his advice to them, Gandalf withheld the tears his own grief should have brought.  To most, he seemed simply tired, but Elrond and Galadriel, who were also worn thin from the pressure of bearing their own rings, realized there was something more to it.  The exhaustion they saw in Gandalf went beyond what they might attribute to Narya.  To those who did not know him well, the wizard seemed well, if subdued, and it was only his closest companions who noticed the change.

            The small party left the Grey Havens in a ship provided by Círdan and passed beyond the bent seas and onto the Straight Road to Valinor.  The sailing was pleasant and the journey quiet, but Gandalf was restless.  One evening, after the others had gone to their beds, Elrond found Gandalf at the prow of the ship, looking out towards Valinor.

            "What troubles you, my friend?" Elrond asked.

            "Is it that obvious?"

            "No, but we have known each other for many years.  I would be a poor friend, indeed, if I did not notice that something is bothering you.  You are exhausted, but more than Galadriel or I, and I know there is more to it than your work in Middle Earth these many years."

            "I feel guilty for Elewen's death.  She offered to come with us to Mordor, and I was quick to agree, and she died because of it.  She was an excellent warrior, and I never thought anything would happen to her.  She had survived so long alone, without even her own people to help her, and I told myself that no orc would ever slay her.  It weighs heavily on my conscience."

            "And your heart, it seems."  The idea that there had ever been something between the two of them was odd, but there was something in Gandalf's tone and in his eyes that told more than his words.  Despite the strangeness, the idea seemed right to Elrond, even though it was unlikely.

            Gandalf just sighed.  "She was a friend, and I do not think it ever would have been more, even so, the loss of a friend can be hard to bear."  Elrond didn't react outwardly, but the confirmation that Gandalf did care for Elewen—as much more than a friend—shocked him.  His mother, Lúthien, had been the child of a union between a Maia and an Elf, but for it to happen again would be, at very least, unexpected*.  Only twice—no, thrice, Elrond corrected himself—had a Man married an Elf, so a second marriage between a Maia and an Elf seemed even less likely.  Even so, the wizard had made no attempt to correct his perception.

            "I know.  I know I will soon see my wife again, but I often wonder what the fate of Men is when they die.  I wonder if I will ever be reunited with my brother*."

            "I have no more knowledge of that than you, Elrond."  Not even Manwë knew the fate of Men after they departed Middle Earth. 

            With more questions than answers, the two of them stayed at the prow in companionable silence for a long time, looking toward the West.  Eventually, Elrond retired, leaving Gandalf to his thoughts.

            The ship carrying the Ringbearers arrived in Valinor to great rejoicing.  For Elrond and Galadriel, it was a reunion with Celbrían.  Many of the Elves who had come with them were reunited with loved ones.  Many were crying tears of joy.  Bilbo and Frodo tried to hang back and avoid notice, but the Elves of Valinor quickly swept them into the celebration along with the Elven arrivals.

            Gandalf saw Elewen's parents waiting there, searching for their daughter.  Disappointment filled their faces when they realized their daughter wasn't there.  In Middle Earth, Legolas had spared Gandalf most of the explanations, for which he had been grateful, but Legolas had remained in Middle Earth, so it fell to him to tell them about their daughter's death.  He made his way through the crowd to them.   They didn't recognize him, because he had never appeared in this form in Valinor before, but they did recognize Elewen's sword hanging from his belt alongside Glamdring.

            Dread filling his eyes, Elewen's father, Veryandil**, was the first to speak.  "What's happened to Elewen?" he asked.

            "She fell in the final battle with Sauron.  She asked me to bring this to you."  Gandalf removed the sword from his belt and handed it to the Elf.  "She died fighting evil, just like she lived while she was in Middle Earth."

            The Elves both fought for composure.  They'd realized something was wrong when they saw Gandalf with Elewen's sword, so the news was not completely a surprise, but it was still painful.  For the rest of the Elves there, though, it was a time for celebration, so they hid their grief as well as they could.  "Thank you," Elewen's mother, Maline***, said softly, and the two of them disappeared into the crowd, choosing not to spoil the celebration with their own grief.  There would be time for questions later.  A few of their kin followed them to lend what comfort they could.

            Pushing thoughts of Elewen from his mind, Gandalf walked over to where Elrond and Galadriel stood with Celebrían.

            "Mithrandir!" Celebrían greeted him.

            "Perhaps we should again call you Olórin, my friend," Galadriel said.  She was trying to raise his spirits by reminding him of the life he'd had here before, but it didn't seem to work.  She hadn't pressed for answers, but it was obvious that something was weighing on him.   

            "I care not what name you use.  It is good to see you, Celebrían." Gandalf smiled at the Elf, but the smile was forced.

            "Have any of you had contact with Elewen?  I half expected her to come with you."

            Galadriel sighed and explained the story to her daughter, saving Gandalf from telling the story again.  Celebrían paled, but soon recovered, playing the role of hostess as well as she could.  "It is sad news, but let's not dwell on it.  Come.  We've prepared a feast to welcome you back."

* Elrond and his twin brother Elros were the sons of Lúthien and Beren.  Lúthien was the daughter of Melian and Thingol.  Beren was human, and the twins were given the choice to be either Men or Elves.  Elrond chose to be and Elf, but Elros chose to be a Man and was the first of the Númenoreans.  Celebrían, who was Elrond's wife and the daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel, was injured and poisoned by an Orc attack and left for Valinor earlier in the Third Age.

**Maline: Means yellow.

***Veryandil: Means bold friend.


	16. Sixteen

A/N: Thanks, as always, for the reviews.  Xnemesis pointed out another Silmarillion typo, which I will check and correct when I get the chance.  Enjoy!

Chapter 16

            For the Elves, the feast held to celebrate their return to Valinor was wonderful.  After an excellent meal, they retired to an open air garden to talk and dance.  They tried to include Gandalf from time to time, but more often than not, he found a quiet place to sit and reflect.  He was not the only one.  Frodo sat with Bilbo, who was nearly asleep, but refused to leave the celebration to rest.  The Elves talked nearly nonstop, catching up after many years apart, but like the Hobbits, Gandalf had little desire to talk.

            Gandalf had slipped away after the Elves left the harbor for the feast and forsaken his physical form, going at the speed of thought to meet with Manwë, but the Lord of the Valar had sent him back to the feast to celebrate with the Elves.  He had taken physical form again as Gandalf, the white wizard, but he could have chosen any form he'd wanted.  After so many years in Middle Earth, it was comfortable, and he saw no need to change it.  It was good to be back in Valinor, but even the Blessed Isle seemed empty to Olórin.  He sat on a bench at the edge of the garden and reflected, thinking about the time when the Trees were full and healthy and the Eldar were content living there, and also about what could have been.  He knew it was no use to wish for the past, but it was a bittersweet return for him.

            The reunion was bittersweet even for a few of the Elves.  Galadriel remembered Valinor at its Noon, and she had left her husband behind in Middle Earth.  The reunion with her daughter eased the loneliness a little, but Celebrían's attention was divided between her mother and her husband.

            Eventually, Elrond insisted on carrying Bilbo to bed, and Frodo followed.  He'd only stayed because Bilbo had insisted.  After they left, the Elves started drifting off in a variety of directions, most into Celebrían's home to continue their conversations.  With nowhere in particular to go, Olórin started walking down one of the paths that lead away from the Elves' dwellings.  He could have changed his form to a younger one or even forsaken a physical form entirely, but he didn't bother.  He had no need for speed.        Moments after he started walking, Olórin turned at a sound behind him, but didn't see anything.  Thinking it merely his imagination, he continued walking.  A moment later, he heard a twig snap, not behind him as he'd thought at first, but off to his right.  He paused for a moment, but the sound had stopped.  It could have been an Elf out for an evening stroll, and he didn't pay much attention.  Pushing the matter from his mind, he let his mind wander.

            Wrapped up in his own thoughts , Olórin didn't see the other form on a path that intersected the one he was on.  The other figure was also preoccupied and didn't notice him, either.  It was only when they ran into each other that either realized someone else was there.

            Muttering an apology, Olórin looked up to see who he'd run into, then stared in utter shock.  Elewen stared back at him uncertainly.  Both seemed afraid to move or even blink for fear the other would prove a figment of their imaginations.  It took a moment for Elewen to convince herself that he was actually there, standing in front of her.  During her time in Mandos, Elewen had had a lot of time to think.  As uncertain as she'd been when he'd approached her in Mordor, she was now certain that she loved him.  Her hesitation now came from not knowing how he'd respond to her presence.  

            After a long moment, Olórin stepped a little closer.  Elewen didn't move away, and after another moment's hesitation, he pulled her against him and kissed her hard.  When he lifted his head, Elewen was too dazed to say anything.  She just stared up at him, speechless.

            Olórin turned his head away.  "I'm sorry.  I promised you I wouldn't do that again without your consent."  He'd assumed far too much in kissing her.  Even though she was here and alive, he shouldn't have assumed that she'd return his affections.  He'd been too stunned by her sudden appearance to think straight.

            Elewen reached out to touch his cheek.  She'd been startled, but hadn't meant to give him the impression that she didn't welcome the kiss.  She had dreamed about this moment the whole time she'd been in Mandos.  Laying her palm against his cheek, she turned his head back and kissed him gently.  Olórin was surprised, but soon wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back.  Finally, they pulled apart and Elewen laid her head on his shoulder, still trying to convince herself that he was there and they were together.

            "How?" Olórin didn't even try to voice the rest of the question.

            "I've been waiting in the Halls of Mandos.  I was just released.  I was on my way to find my parents.  I didn't know that you were here."  Elewen's voice was muffled against his shirt.

            "We just arrived."  Olórin paused for a moment, an idea intruding on his thoughts.  "I think we've been set up," he chuckled.  Elewen looked up at him, confused.  "Manwë sent me back to the welcome celebration, even though he knew I wouldn't want to stay.  When most of the Elves left, I wandered off, taking this road at random, or so I thought.  And now, walking on a road that should be deserted, I find you, newly released from Mandos.  The Valar must have planned this.  I suppose I shall have to thank them for it, though part of me wonders why it couldn't have been simpler.  You could have been released earlier and waited with your parents until I arrived and spared them the grief of hearing about your death."

            "It isn't worth worrying over.  Speaking of my parents, though, we should go to them."

            "Yes.  I told them what happened when I arrived, but they'll want to know you've returned."

            Neither made any move to leave and do just that, and Olórin looked down at Elewen, wondering why she was hesitating.  "What is it?"

            "I may have fallen in love with you in the guise of Gandalf, but I don't understand why you keep this form now.  Surely you could one with fewer aches and pains.  It just doesn't quite suit you—not here."

            Olórin's breath caught at the words 'in love,' but he forced himself to focus on what she'd said.  Indeed, there was no reason he needed to keep the form of an old man.  "And what would you prefer?" He grinned down at Elewen.  Now she was the one on the spot, and she didn't know what to say.  After a moment, he kissed her again, then stepped back.  When Elewen opened her eyes, she saw not an old wizard, but a young man, still with white hair and clothing, but also with the youth she remembered from her first days in Valinor.

            Elewen nodded.  "This suits you."  Olórin chuckled, and she slipped an arm around his waist, and the two of them, Elf and Maia, hurried for Elewen's parents' home.  It wasn't a long journey, and it gave them a chance to let what had just happened sink in.  They chatted a little on the way, but walked in silence for most of it.  They came to the house sometime in the wee hours of the morning, but there were still lights and figures moving in the common areas of the house.

            Elewen suddenly found herself nervous.  She had left in anger to follow Fëanor, and now she had to face that argument again.  She'd been waiting for this reunion for several Ages, but now that it was here, she wasn't sure what to say.  Olórin, too, was reluctant to enter.  He didn't want to interfere with Elewen's reunion with her family, and he wasn't quite ready for them to know about his relationship with Elewen.  He needed time to figure it out himself first.  

            After a moment's hesitation, Elewen pushed the door open and made her way to the kitchen.  Her parents were sitting at the table, cousins and friends sitting with them.  Her sword was lying on the table, and no one was talking.  Hesitating, Elewen reached up and tapped the doorframe lightly.  The sound made the other Elves look up, and for a moment none of them could believe their eyes.

            A moment later, the Elves were all hugging and crying.  No one was certain how they'd gotten from staring at each other to crowding around Elewen, but they didn't care, either.  Olórin stood at the door, not wanting to interfere.  After a moment, they all sat down again, and Elewen looked over to the door, realizing that he was waiting there.  She motioned him over to a chair beside her, and he sat down uncertainly.

            The explanations took a long time, mainly because various relatives kept interrupting Elewen to ask questions she would have answered anyway had they not interrupted her.  She told them about her time in Middle Earth and how the War of the Ring had found her.  She didn't mention her short-lived relationship with Legolas, nor what had occurred between her and Olórin before the battle that had killed her.

            Finishing her story, she continued, "I was released from Mandos earlier tonight, and I met Olórin on the road on my way here.  In fact, I quite literally ran into him."    She glanced over at the Maia, not sure what to say.  As she looked back at her family, she noticed a rather pointed glance between her parents.  Elewen looked over at her mother, who smiled subtly.  Elewen smiled back, realizing that she wouldn't need to explain after all.

            After talking for at least another hour, the cousins and friends who had come to comfort her parents returned to their homes, leaving Elewen and Olórin with her parents.  Olórin felt like he was intruding on their personal time, so he mumbled an excuse and slipped out into the night.


	17. Seventeen

A/N: I have corrected the problem with the endnote in chapter 7 with Elrond's genealogy.  Elrond and Elros were the grandsons of Beren and Luthien, not their sons.  As always, please let me know what you think.  Enjoy!

Chapter 17

            The next morning, some of the Elves were slow to rise; others hadn't slept at all.  Galadriel was nowhere to be found, and neither Elrond nor Celebrían knew where she might be when they finally got up.  No one was overly concerned, but they were curious.  Even Olórin was aware of the confusion.  He had stayed close, though they couldn't see him, and he overheard the questions about her whereabouts.  In the end, he was the first to find her when he decided to pay a visit to Melian.

            Even in Valinor, Melian favored the form she'd worn in Middle Earth, as well as a physical dwelling, and when Olórin arrived, she and Galadriel were sitting over tea in the house's small kitchen.  Reassuming the form he'd worn last night, he knocked on the door frame.  Neither woman was surprised in the least to see him.

            "Come in, Olórin," Melian said.  She passed him a mug of tea.  "We've been expecting you."

            "Obviously."  The feeling of conspiracy grew in his mind.  It was obviously true that they'd expected him, because there was an extra cup of tea on the table, and it was freshly made—still too hot to drink.

            "I take it you've seen Elewen?" Melian asked, her manner as casual as if she was asking about the weather.  Galadriel looked at her in shock.  Olórin fought to keep his face blank.  In her mind, Melian chuckled.  She'd been aware of the plan, but not the actual timing.  It was Olórin's appearance that told all.  He would have kept the form of an old wizard if not for Elewen's urging.  Galadriel had simply been left out of the loop.

            "Yes.  I saw her last night.  I left her with her parents."

            Galadriel looked between the two of them in confusion.  Melian smiled at her friend.  "There was never any intention for Elewen to stay in Mandos, Galadriel.  She was released last night.  For now, though, I think you ought to head back.  We will have plenty of time to chat.  I expect the other Elves are curious what's happened to you."

            "Celebrían was looking for you," Olórin added.

            "Really?  I'm surprised she's even awake," Galadriel said dryly, having recovered from her surprise.  Celebrían and Elrond had disappeared from the celebration as early as they could without being rude.  Galadriel was surprised they had slept at all.  

            After saying their goodbyes, Galadriel left the house to return to Celebrían's home, leaving the two Maia alone.  They sat in silence for a few minutes.  Melian didn't want to push Olórin to talk until he was ready.  Olórin sipped on his tea, trying to decide what to say and how to say it.  He knew Melian was aware of how he felt for Elewen.  Finally, he asked, "Is this a conspiracy against me?"

            Melian chuckled.  "Not _against_ you."

            "What do the Valar think about this?"  She would know what he meant.

            "They approve."

            "And what do you think?"

            "I think you both deserve some happiness.  The two of you have a bright future ahead of you."  

            "Thank you.  It means a lot coming from you."  He suspected Melian still grieved for Thingol.

            Both fell silent for a moment, then they reminisced about the early days of Middle Earth, before the Elves awoke and before the Trees were created.  Eventually, Olórin took his leave and slipped away.

            Galadriel made her way back to Celebrían's house, where she found her daughter and Elrond sitting in the library.

            "Mother!  We've been wondering where you were." Celebrían said.

            "I've been visiting Melian.  I doubt you were overly worried." Galadriel suspected her daughter and son-in-law had only noticed her absence when the other Elves had mentioned it to them.

            "No, but we did wonder." Celebrían replied smoothly.

            "Have you seen Olórin?" Elrond asked.

            "Yes.  He was visiting with Melian when I left.  Why do you ask?"  
            "Elewen stopped by this morning.  She was released from Mandos last night.  I wondered if she had seen him."

            Galadriel looked over at her son-in-law.  He must have known something about this before she did.  "They met last night.  I do not know the details."  She wished she knew more.  Like Elewen's parents, Galadriel had seen this relationship coming since their first days in Middle Earth, but apparently Elrond knew something more recent.

            "I spoke to him on the ship on the way here." Elrond told her, not waiting for her to ask.  "He told me that he was interested in her, but my impression was that he did not expect her to return his affections."    Galadriel mulled this over.  She would have to ask Melian about it.

            Celebrían looked from her mother to her husband, confused.  She had known Gandalf in Middle Earth, but she'd never thought much about him and Elewen.  The whole idea was strange, but the more she thought about it, the more it fit.  Finally, she asked, "How long have the two of you expected this to happen?"  
            "I don't know how long Elrond has known about it, but I suspected it almost since we first came to Valinor," Galadriel told her.  "I had not heard about Melian and Thingol, so I did not expect it to actually happen, but I often thought that had Olórin been an Elf and not a Maia, they might have married.  After I met Melian in Middle Earth, I realized that it could happen—that an Elf might indeed marry a Maia.  Now, what remains is to be seen is if they can finally admit it to themselves."  

            Elewen spent the day and the next night catching up with her family.  She avoided Olórin, uncertain about their new relationship.  The following morning, she went back to Celebrían's home to see her friends there.  Galadriel and Elrond were out on some errand, so Celebrían and Elewen sat down to talk alone.

            They made small talk for a while, and Celebrían debated with herself how to broach the subject of Elewen's relationship with Olórin.  After a little small talk, Celebrían asked, "What was it like to return from Mandos?"

            "It was a relief.  It's strange how much you can miss having a physical form.    When I first returned, I was a bit shaky, and it took a while before I got my balance quite right.  It was good that I had a long walk back to adjust."

            "Did you have to walk all the way alone?"

            Elewen sighed in her mind.  She knew were this was going.  "No.  I met Olórin on the road."

            "It's always good to meet a friend.  He's been rather quiet recently, but since you returned, it's been better.  Elrond told me that he felt badly about what happened to you."  Celbrían knew it was transparent, but she knew no other way to bring up the subject.

            "When he said there was a conspiracy about us, I didn't know it was so widespread," Elewen muttered.

            "We want you to be happy."

            "If this was another Elf, I might even welcome your matchmaking, but Olórin isn't an Elf and only once before in all of history has a Maia married an Elf—and look how that ended."

            "Why are you fighting it so much?  He seems to care for you, so why is it a problem?  Why does it matter that he's a Maia?"

            Elewen looked up at her, trying to figure out how to respond.  Celebrían was questioning something that had always been self-evident in her mind.  Elewen had been drawn to Olórin from the first time she met him, but she'd written it off as a young woman's crush on a very powerful being.  Now, the feelings remained, far more than a crush, but the reasoning remained.  The Elves did not marry Maia!  _Why does it matter that he's a Maia_? Clebrían had asked.  Legolas had asked the same thing.  Why did it matter?

            The idea that it might not matter was too much for Elewen to take in then and there, and she changed the subject, setting the confusing thoughts aside for the time.  After a while, she made an excuse and slipped away to mull over the question on her own.  Unable to clarify her own thoughts, she made her way to Melian's home.

            Melian greeted Elewen warmly and invited her in to a small study, where the two of them could sit and talk.  "How have you been, Elewen?" Melian asked.

            "It is good to be back.  I'm afraid I'm a little more attached to my physical form than you or the other Maia might be." Elewen chuckled.

            "Some of us don't mind it, but even I prefer to keep a physical form.  After the years I spent in Doriath in this form, I became attached to it."

            "Do you regret staying there for so long?"

            "Regret it?  Never.  I regret that it ended so badly.  I regret that there wasn't something more we could do to prevent the evils of the First Age, and all the death and misery over the Silmarils, but I certainly don't regret staying in the first place.  I loved Thingol, and I was happy there with him."

            Elewen considered this thoughtfully, but didn't respond.  After a moment, Melian asked, "Does something with Olórin concern you?"  The Maia knew that was why Elewen was here.

            "The whole idea of a relationship with him seems so strange that I had never even considered it before he approached me in Middle Earth.  Even now, it just doesn't seem reasonable that a Maia should fall in love with me."

            "Why not?"

            "What do you mean?"

            "Why not, Elewen?  Are you not worthy of his love?  Is love confined to boundaries that exist only in our own minds?  If I had believed that, I would never have married Thingol and I would have deprived myself of some of the best parts of my life.  Don't make that mistake, Elewen.  Don't turn away from love just because it comes in an unlikely form."

            "I know you and my family and friends approve, but what of the Valar and the other Maia?"

            "They approve.  We all want both of you to be happy.  Do you think he just happened to be on the same road as you?  That you just happened to be released from Mandos the same day he arrived?"

            Elewen knew as much, but it didn't make it less intidimating.  "I'm scared," she whispered.

            "I know.  That is something I cannot help you with.  You know Olórin—trust him and trust yourself."  With that, Melian stood and led Elewen out of the house.  "Go find him, Elewen," she urged.  "Don't wait for fear to take hold of you again."


	18. Eighteen

A/N: As always, thanks for the reviews.  I'd love to hear from you more!  Enjoy!

Chapter 18

            Elewen wandered alone for a while.  She was nervous about seeing Olórin, but she knew she wouldn't be content until she did.  She didn't even know where to find him.  Eventually, Elewen found herself wandering the same road she'd been on when they'd met a few nights earlier.  She came to the crossroad where they'd run into each other.  She leaned against a tree at the side of the road, then sat down at its base.

            Elewen sat there alone for a few minutes, then whispered, "Olórin."  Saying his name really didn't change anything, but she was alone, so it really didn't matter.  She didn't know where to find him, and she wasn't even certain she was ready to see him, but she couldn't get him from her mind.  

            A moment later, a shadow fell on Elewen.  She looked up to see Olórin standing over her.  Her breath caught as he reached down to help her up.  She took his hand and stood up, but he didn't release her hand.  They both stared at each other for a long moment.  Elewen fought her fear and uncertainty.  Even though he looked like any other Elf, she knew what he was, and despite Melian's reassurances, it was much harder with him standing there, only inches away.

            Elewen closed her eyes for a moment.  If she ran away again, she'd regret it.  She knew she loved him, and that she wouldn't be happy without him.  After a moment, she opened her eyes, trying to compose her thoughts.  He was watching her, waiting for her.  Elewen swallowed hard, then moved closer.  She reached up and caught the back of his head with her hand, pulling his head down to kiss him.  His arms were around her in an instant.  The kiss turned intense, and when they finally pulled apart, both were breathless.

            "You've been avoiding me," Olórin said quietly.

            "I've been scared," Elewen admitted.

            "And now?" he asked.

            "I'm still scared, but…" Elewen trailed off, unable to find the right words.  She looked down, but he lifted her chin gently.  "I don't think I can ever be happy if I ignore this," she whispered.  "I love you."

            Olórin kissed her again, gently this time.  After a long moment, he pulled away.  "Will you marry me?"  Elewen nodded, words failing her.  "I love you, Elewen," Olórin whispered, pulling her against him and holding her.

            After a moment, Elewen looked up at him, head still resting on his shoulder.  "How did you find me here?"

            "I've been watching you these last few days.  I didn't want to intrude when you weren't seeking me out, but when you said my name, I hoped you were ready to see me."  Elewen nodded.  Somehow, it didn't surprise her.  

            Olórin breathed a sigh of relief.  He'd been almost as nervous as Elewen.  He knew the Valar approved of this relationship, but convincing Elewen of that was another matter.  He'd known since before the battle at the Black Gate that he was in love with her, but she'd pushed him away the night before the battle, and until just now, he'd wondered if he'd misgauged her feelings entirely.

            The new couple stood there for a long time, enjoying each other's presence.  As night fell, they finally made their way back, heading for Elewen's family's home.  

            Back at her family's home, Elewen pulled her mother aside into another room, leaving Olórin with her father.  Veryandil started the conversation, "How has your return to Valinor been?"

            "It is a relief to be back.  It is a welcome rest from the troubles of Middle Earth."

            "From what Elewen tells me, you have certainly earned a rest.  You must be glad to see her again."  Veryandil watched Olórin's reaction.

            "Yes, I am."

            "The two of you were friends before she left."

            "And we were in Middle Earth, as well."

            "And now?"

            Olórin was grateful for where the Elf was leading the conversation.  It made it easier for him to bring it up.  "We have both been through some uncertainty, but…" Olórin paused, then took the direct approach.  "May I have your permission to marry her?"

            "If she consents to it, then so do I.  You have my blessing." _It's about time_, Veryandil added silently.

            In another room, Elewen told her mother about what had happened.  Maline wasn't surprised at all.  Unlike her husband, she was vocal about her opinion.  "It's about time!" she said.  Elewen looked at her, confused.  "We've seen this coming since you first met him," she told her daughter.  "The two of you are the ones who have needed convincing—not us."  Elewen started laughing, and the two of them laughed together, finally at ease.

            After a while, they returned to the sitting room where Olórin and Veryandil were talking.  Elewen sat down next to Olórin and the four of them talked for the rest of the night.

            In the morning, Elewen met Olórin and the two of them went together to break their news to Galadriel, Celebrían, and Elrond.  They found the three Elves in Celebrían's home, and the five of them were soon sitting on benches in the garden.

            After a few moments of small talk, Elewen spoke.  "I know all of you have been hoping that Olórin and I would develop a relationship.  In fact, it seems that all of Valinor has been hoping the same thing.  Even the Valar seem to have conspired to 'help' us."  She paused, letting them wonder if they'd assumed wrongly.  "While I'm not anxious to encourage the scheming that's gone on, it has worked.  Olórin and I are to be married."

            Celebrían broke out in a huge grin, and Galadriel and Elrond exchanged knowing glances.  Elrond was the first to speak.  "That is good to hear.  We've all been hoping it would turn out well for you, though the accusations of conspiracy may be somewhat overstated…" he let the comment trail off as they all laughed.

            The five of them left to tell the rest of the Elves their news, and after a while, Olórin slipped away, leaving Elewen with the other Elves.  After he left them, he abandoned his physical form and went to seek an audience with Manwë.

            Olórin returned an hour later and pulled Elewen aside.  None of the other Elves knew what was said between them, but Elewen looked surprised, and the two of them left together.  They heard nothing from either of them for most of the day.

            Mid-afternoon, a summons came for all the Elves to come before Manwë.  It was unusual, but not exceptional.  Galadriel, Elrond and the Elves who had come with them had not appeared before Manwë since their arrival, so it was not entirely a surprise.  Still, it was occasion for some nervousness.  Despite being forgiven and allowed to return, some of the exiles still felt awkward about their part in the Kinslaying.  They made their way to Taniquetil, finding a few others waiting there, including Elewen's family and Melian.

            Seeing them, Galadriel let a small smile come to her face.  After a few minutes, they were called into the throne room, only to find Olórin and Elewen already there.  After they bowed to Manwë and Varda, Manwë spoke, "I welcome the newly returned exiles back to these shores.  However, I have called you here for more reason than to welcome your return.  Olórin has come to me seeking my permission to marry Elewen, your friend and kin.  It is unusual for the Ainur* to seek the Children in marriage, but I have no objection to this marriage, and that is why I have called you here—to witness the marriage of these two whom you call friends."

            Manwë called Olórin and Elewen before him.  The other Elves gathered in a loose circle around them.  "Olórin, Elewen, you understand the commitment that you now make.  Are you both certain you wish to undertake it?"

            "Yes, my lord," Olórin said.

            Elewen nodded.  "I am certain, lord," she said.

            "Very well," Manwë said.  "Then I declare to all those present that you are husband and wife.  Congratulations."

            The Elves and Maia left the throne room, finding a feast waiting for them.  The celebration went on for a week, even after Olórin and Elewen disappeared to only Manwë knew where.

* Ainur: A collective term for the Valar and the Maiar


	19. Nineteen

A/N: Sorry I'm a little late posting this.  There are still a couple chapters, so don't quit yet!

Chapter 19: Postlude

            Legolas stayed in Middle Earth, living in Ithilien, but also traveling a lot, until after Elessar died.  He kept an eye on Christa while she was alive, but even had he not, Éowyn and Faramir would have taken care of the healer.

            When word came that Elessar had died, Legolas and Gimli went to Minas Tirith for his funeral.  For Arwen, it was a bitter parting, but there was little Legolas could do to ease her grief.  For Legolas, it was time to leave.  He had often wondered what would happen when this time came, and when it did he wasn't willing to leave Gimli behind.  They had been friends for far too long to abandon each other now.  Together, the two friends built a ship and left Middle Earth for Valinor. 

            The voyage was an easy one, and the two friends arrived in Valinor in what seemed like little time at all.  When they arrived, it was to a waiting crowd.  Elewen was standing next to a young, white haired man wearing a red ring, and Legolas quickly realized that it was Gandalf, just in another form.  With the two stood a young Elf woman with hair nearly as dark as Elewen's.  Elrond, Celebrían, and Galadriel were also there.  Legolas was glad to see Elewen, but not terribly surprised.  Gimli, on the other hand, was quite confused.  Gimli had never before realized that not all Elves who die remain in the Halls of Mandos.  Legolas didn't bother to explain.  There would be time later.  

            Elewen was the first forward when they disembarked.  She wrapped Legolas in a big hug the moment he was off the ship.  "It's good to see you again, Legolas."

            "And you, too, Elewen."  Elewen released him to say hello to Gimli.

            "And you, as well, Master Gimli."  Elewen pulled him forward to where the others were waiting.  Gimli looked at her oddly, but he didn't have time to ask the question obviously brewing in his mind—how was she there and alive?

            "Welcome to Valinor, Legolas of Mirkwood and Gimli son of Glóin," Galadriel said.  Galadriel caught Gimli's eye and something obviously passed between them, because Gimli's expression became a little less confused and he stopped giving Elewen strange glances.  Elewen gave her a grateful smile, silently thanking her for explaining.

            "It is good to see you both here, my friends," Olórin said.  "You are welcome here—both of you."  The Valar had approved when Sam had come to Valinor, but Sam had been a ringbearer, if only for a short time.  Despite all the odds, they approved of this, too.  Gimli the Dwarf was as welcome in Valinor as any of the Elves.  "Master Gimli, you have not met Lady Celebrían, and I would like to introduce both of you to my daughter, Sérina*."  Legolas raised an eyebrow at the introduction, but no one elaborated, so he left the questions for later.

            Sérina was a young woman, almost still a girl.  She had her mother's dark hair and bright eyes.  The young woman smiled at the new arrivals.  "I am honored to meet you, my lords," she said, a bit shyly.  

            "Please, come.  We have prepared a feast for your arrival," Elewen said, and the party walked away from the bay.  As they walked, Legolas and Gimli had a few minutes to try to sort out everything they'd just been told, but no one was in any hurry to explain, so the two companions let the questions wait for later.

            The Elves led the new arrivals to Olórin and Elewen's home, near her parent's home.  They enjoyed a wonderful meal in relative silence, the Valinorean Elves giving them time to eat without pestering them with questions.

            After dinner, they retired to a sitting room over cups of wine and tea to tell their stories.  Someone even found beer for Gimli.  Elewen started the conversation.  "Tell us about your life after the war.  Did you go to Ithilien as you had hoped?"

            Legolas nodded.  "Yes.  Gimli and I traveled for a while, then I brought some of my people south from Mirkwood, and we settled there for a while.  We stayed there, for the most part, until Elessar died."  Legolas told about Aragorn and Arwen's rule, and their children, and also Arwen's fate after Aragorn had died.  The story was difficult for Elrond, Celebrían and Galadriel to hear, but it was an expected grief.  News of Eldarion* and their daughters eased the grief a little.  Celebrían hugged her infant daughter close.  The baby had been born only months earlier.

            Finally, Legolas fell silent.  "Tell me about Christa and Elena," Elewen prompted.

            Legolas smiled.  He'd been waiting for her to ask.  "Elena stayed in Rohan.  She never married, but she was happy.  She became good friends with Lothíriel, Éomer's wife.  She trained several other healers before she died of old age.

            "Christa followed Éowyn and Faramir to Ithilien.  She had plenty to keep her busy, especially when they first moved there.  She was overwhelmed for a while, but she had plenty of help, especially from Éowyn and young Bergil."

            "Bergil?"  Elewen didn't remember the name.

            "Beregond's son.  Beregond was a soldier of Gondor in Minas Tirith during the Battle of the Pelennor.  He is the one who stopped Denethor from burning Faramir as well as himself.  I don't think you ever met him.  Beregond was banished from Minas Tirith because he killed men in the Hallows in order to stop Denethor, but Aragorn made him Captain of the Guard for Faramir in Ithilien.  Bergil was about ten at the time, and he and Pippin were friends.

            "Bergil and Christa quickly became friends, probably because Christa didn't intimidate him like other 'adults' did.  There weren't many children in Ithilien at the time, so he had no other playmates.  He helped Christa as she set up her healing practice there.  He helped in the garden and gathered herbs and firewood in the woods, and even helped with her work at times.

            "About eight years after they both moved to Ithilien, Bergil started to notice that Christa was not only an excellent healer, but also a rather attractive woman.  He didn't understand why no men had ever tried to court her.  He had grown up with her, so he didn't understand why her work would deter suitors.  A year later, he married her."

            Elewen burst out in a broad smile.  It was good news.  Legolas continued, "They had four children, and like Elena, Christa also taught several other students.  Bergil served in the guard like his father, and one day about twenty years after they were married, he didn't come home.  Christa continued with her work as a widow, but she missed him.  She passed away in her sleep after seeing six grandchildren born."

            When Legolas had finished his story, Elewen and the others told the new arrivals about what had happened for them in Valinor—Elewen's return and her marriage to Olórin, Sérina's birth, Celebrían's new baby, and other little details. 

            Legolas and the other Elves chatted for most of the night, but Gimli retired early.  He was showing his age, and preferred sleep to listening to the Elves' endless talk.

            The next day, Gimli slept late, and Legolas wandered the house early in the morning.  There was a small garden behind the house, and he made his way back to it.  A little stream ran through the garden, and there was a bench near the stream.  Legolas walked over to the bench to sit down, but heard a gasp above him.

            Sérina dropped out of a tree.  "Lord Legolas!"

            "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to startle you."

            "It isn't your fault.  I was daydreaming."

            "Why were you in a tree?  Were you hiding from something?"

            "No.  I just like to sit up there.  I can see further than from down here."

            "You said you were daydreaming.  May I ask what you were thinking about?"

            "I was just thinking about Middle Earth.  My parents have told me about it, and I've even looked into their memories, but there are a lot of parts that they don't care to discuss—Galadriel and Elrond, too.  I know I shouldn't be so curious, but sometimes I wonder about it.  They've told me enough about the War of the Ring to know what it was, but sometimes I wonder about the details.  I know they both died at some point, so I'm not surprised they don't want to talk about it.  I suppose I'm just too curious for my own good."

            Legolas smiled down at the girl.  "There are a lot of memories I don't care to recall either.  War is very nasty business."

            "I know.  Melian showed me a few of her memories of the wars of Beleriand, so I do know something about it.  I don't want to know all the gory details—just a little more than Frodo destroyed the Ring while Aragorn and his companions fought off the forces of Mordor."

            Legolas sat down on the bench.  "Sit with me, and I'll tell you a few of my own experiences."  He told her a little about the war, but soon the conversation drifted to other topics, and before either realized it, it was noon.

            Legolas met Gimli for lunch and had to apologize for his lateness to the Dwarf.  He and Gimli spent the rest of the day exploring, but Legolas found his mind wandering to Sérina.  That evening, after Gimli had retired, he found Sérina with her parents.  Galadriel, Elrond, and Celebrían were also there, and they all chatted for a few hours.  Eventually, Legolas made an excuse and slipped away.  He wandered back to the garden and sat by the stream.  It was a quiet, peaceful place.  He enjoyed catching up with the others and telling his story, but it was also nice to sit quietly.

            A few hours later, someone abruptly sat down beside Legolas.  He jumped a little, then realized it was Sérina.  She was sitting with her back to the stream, facing the opposite way he was.  The bench had no back, so she didn't have to go around to the front to sit down, which was part of the reason she'd been able to sneak up on him. 

            "I think we're even," Sérina smiled.

            Legolas nodded.  "Yes, we are.  What brings you out here, lady?"

            "I like the quiet.  You?"

            "The same.  I enjoy telling my story, but at times, it is pleasant to just sit without talking."

            Sérina nodded.  "Could I join you?"

            "Haven't you done so already?" Legolas chuckled.

            Sérina swung around to face the stream, but then her eyes wandered to the sky.  After a few minutes, she asked quietly, "Are the stars the same here as they are in Middle Earth?"

            "They are brighter here," Legolas told her, "but they are the same stars."

            "You said that you're from Greenwood.  Would you tell me about it?"

            "Would you rather see it?"  Sérina nodded, and he let her look into her memories of his home.  After a while, he finished his tour in his memories.  They spent another hour in companionable silence before going their own ways to rest.

* Eldarion: Aragorn and Arwen's son and heir.


	20. Twenty

A/N: No one reviewed the last chapter, but since no one complained, I'll assume you're enjoying it.  There is one more chapter after this one.  Enjoy!

Chapter 20

            Legolas and Sérina became friends during the next few weeks, often spending time together.  One day, Olórin caught up with Legolas in the garden, where Legolas was waiting for Sérina.  "Legolas!"

            "Olórin.  How are you?"

            "I'm well.  I'd like to have a word with you if you have a moment."

            "Of course."

            "You've become friends with my daughter, and I would like to know your intentions."  Olórin didn't care if he was blunt.

            "Intentions?"

            "I've seen the way you look at her.  If you're interested, say so.  I won't be offended."  Olórin hoped that Sérina and Legolas wouldn't need as much convincing as he and Elewen had needed, but he didn't want to push them, either.

            "I ...  She's…May I have your permission to court her?"

            Olórin cocked his head and stared at the Elf for a long moment.  He didn't mind making Legolas squirm.  After a long time, he finally nodded.  "Yes, you may."  Without another word, he turned and left the Elf standing there.

            A moment later, Sérina came out from a different door.  "I saw you talking to my father.  May I be so bold to ask what you were talking about?"  Legolas glanced away.  "Or would you rather I not ask?"  She'd become very comfortable with him, but she sensed that she might have asked too much. 

            Legolas smiled down at her.  "Ask me some other time."  Thankfully, Sérina let the matter drop.  For her part, Sérina was grateful that he wasn't offended at her rash question.  The two of them spent several hours wandering through the gardens and wherever else their feet might take them, chatting from time to time, but spending most of it in companionable silence.

            The next few days fell into a pattern.  Legolas spent a lot of time with Gimli, but he also spent an increasing amount of time with Sérina.  A few days later, they were walking in the gardens again.  Legolas was a little moody, but Sérina couldn't figure out why.  Eventually, they stopped at a bench overlooking a small creek, just out of view of the house.

            "What's bothering you, Legolas?" Sérina asked.  "Something's been on your mind all day."

            "You are entirely too perceptive," Legolas said, smiling to assure her that he was joking.  Sérina didn't respond.  She just watched him, waiting for an answer.  Legolas hesitated.  He'd been thinking about the conversation he'd had with Olórin a few days earlier, and he didn't know how best to bring up the subject with Sérina.  After a minute, Legolas asked, "Has there ever been any one who has caught your eye?  Anyone you feel that you might someday marry?"

            Whatever Sérina had expected him to say, this was not it.  She hesitated, startled.  She knew she was in a unique position—part Elf, part Maia—but she had never really dwelled on it.  Perhaps that was the reason none of the Elves had ever approached her—either that or simple fear of her father.  Finally, she found her voice.  "I haven't really thought about it.  I really haven't ever thought…" Serina paused, then made up her mind.  "Well, perhaps there is one…"  She looked up and met Legolas' eyes.  He hesitated, not certain what she meant.

            The two stared at each other for a moment, neither daring to act.  Finally, Sérina scooted closer to him on the bench.  It was the confirmation Legolas needed, and he leaned closer to her and kissed her lightly.  Sérina smiled up at him, confident now that she knew that their feelings were mutual.  She leaned against him for a moment, taking his hand.  She didn't feel as if she needed to say anything.  There would be plenty of time for conversation, but now she just enjoyed his presence.

            After a moment, Legolas slipped his hand out of hers and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer against him.  Sérina rested her head on his shoulder, and they sat together and watched the creek for a few minutes, then got up and walked back to the house.  They dropped their hands as they approached the house, but Sérina still received a knowing glance from her mother when they passed in the hall.  Legolas slipped away with a promise to return the next day.

            Legolas and Sérina spent a lot of time together during the next few days.  Their habits didn't change much—they still spent time wandering the gardens, practicing archery, and whatever else they found to do, but there was a new dimension to the time they spent together.  The relationship was new for both, but somehow seemed natural.  Sérina knew that Legolas had courted her mother, and she had never looked at him as a potential suitor.

            In Valinor, time passed without notice, and the young couple spent much of their time together.  They would often spend the entire day riding or just walking aimlessly.  Legolas relished the time with no pressing duties, no danger, and no war.  Sérina would ask him about Middle Earth from time to time, but she didn't press him to talk about the war.  Indeed, her parents had told her many of their experiences, and she was more curious about the rest of Middle Earth—the people, places, and pleasant experiences.  Elewen had told Sérina about Christa and Elena, who had been like daughters to Elewen, and Legolas was able to tell Sérina about the rest of their lives after her parents had left Middle Earth.  She often spent time, not only with Legolas, but also with Gimli who told her about their adventures and experiences.  Gimli never tired of telling about the Glittering Caves, the rebuilding of Minas Tirith, or even the first time he'd met Galadriel.

            One day Elewen managed to corner Legolas alone.  "Might I have a few minutes of your time, Legolas?" she asked.

            "Of course," he told her, a little surprised.

            "I'm glad to see that your and Sérina have become friends, and even more.  Still, it is a little strange to think that you're seeing my daughter."

            "Yes, it is.  I've tried not to dwell on it."  

            "I don't blame you for that.  Still, you have been avoiding me these last few days.  Yes, it is a little strange, but I do approve."

            "I'm sorry.  I haven't meant to avoid you.  I wasn't certain how you would respond."  

            "Olórin mentioned it to me before he ever spoke to you.  As I said, it is strange, but I do approve.  You don't need to avoid me because of it.  Actually, I'm glad.  I trust you more than a lot of the Elves here.  Though I must warn you, she is a trickster at times," Elewen said with a grin.  "After all, she learned from the best."

            "Why do I doubt that you mean her father?"

            Elewen gave him a hurt look.  "Are you implying that I would teach my daughter to play jokes on others?" she said in an offended voice.

            "Yes," Legolas said flatly, meeting Elewen's eyes.

            "I'm not certain you have any room to talk.  I've talked to some of the Greenwood Elves here, and I've heard a few tales that even amazed me."

            "Galadriel has told me some of your stories, too, and somehow I doubt I ever beat you.  It sounds like it is a good thing that you had Galadriel to stand up for you—and to take the blame, especially when Haldir walked into a trap meant for your cousin."

            Elewen stared at him for a moment, not able to come up with a suitable reply.  "Wait until you have children of your own, Legolas.  Then we'll see which way the jokes turn."  With that, she turned at left him standing there, head spinning, trying to figure out exactly what she'd meant.


	21. Twentyone

Author's note follows. 

Chapter 21

            It wasn't long before Legolas found out what Elewen had meant when she'd called her daughter a trickster.  One day, they were walking together along a stream in the woods, just talking and enjoying the other's company.  Legolas had brought a picnic lunch, and they stopped in a little clearing to eat.  After they enjoyed a quiet lunch, Legolas dozed off for a few minutes.  He woke a few minutes later to no trace of Sérina.

            Legolas looked around for a minute, slightly concerned.  He knew there was little chance of harm coming to her in Valinor, but it didn't make her disappearance less confusing.  The remnants of their meal were still laid out on a blanket, and there were no footprints leading away in any direction.  He stood up and looked closer for signs, walking closer to the river to get a better view of the clearing.  He heard a giggle above him just an instant before cold water dropped onto his head.  Sérina dropped out of the tree above him, laughing.  Legolas sputtered for a moment, then wrapped her in a hug, getting her as wet as he could.  Sérina just laughed, not at all surprised or even annoyed.

            The fact that she'd expected him to get her wet frustrated Legolas, and after a moment's hesitation, he picked her up and walked toward the stream.  

            This did catch Sérina off guard, and she gasped as Legolas walked right into the stream until he was up to his knees in water.  "Legolas, don't!" she squealed, expecting him to drop her into the water.

            "I hope you think better of me than to drop a helpless maiden into a raging river without so much as a raft!"  Legolas said melodramatically, laughing.

            Sérina breathed deeply, trying to get her breath back.  Just when she was finally convinced that he wasn't going to drop her and she began to relax, Legolas bent backwards and let both of them fall into the water.  She screamed and coughed as she got a mouthful of water.  Legolas pushed her into a sitting position so she wouldn't breathe in any more water.

            "I didn't drop you," he said, grinning at her.  Sérina just splashed him with a little water, but it didn't matter.  They were both soaked, anyway.  Legolas got up and offered her his hand, which she took somewhat doubtfully.  Before she could walk away to get out of the stream, he leaned closer and whispered, "Your mother is not the only one who is known for practical jokes."

            With that, Legolas walked out of the river, giving Sérina his hand as she climbed out, sodden skirts making her footing awkward.  They picked up their picnic in silence.  Sérina was so quiet Legolas wondered if she was angry with him.  When they got their things bundled up, they walked back in silence.

            Legolas and Sérina reached her home, and Legolas followed Sérina up to the house.  Olórin was sitting outside, smoking a pipe and blowing smoke rings. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of them, still soaking wet.  Sérina slipped inside quickly.

            "Sit down, Legolas.  I'd like to have a word with you.  Care to smoke?"

            "No, thank you."

            "Nonsense.  Here you go," Olórin said, producing another pipe.  Legolas took the pipe, but didn't light it.  He didn't really care for pipeweed, but he didn't mind it once in a while.  He fiddled with it for a moment while Olórin made small talk.  Legolas didn't know what the Maia was up to, especially after he'd brought Olórin's daughter home soaking wet, but the Maia didn't give any indication that anything was wrong.  After a moment, Legolas lit the pipe, not wanting to seem ungrateful.  He lifted it to his lips and took a deep puff, only to break out coughing.  He doubled over with the coughing, looking up to see the Maia chuckling.  A moment later, he heard laughter from inside the house, and Elewen and Sérina came out, Sérina now in a dry gown.  Both women were laughing so hard they were crying.

            "You didn't think I'd let you get off that easily, did you?" Sérina asked, brushing tears of laughter from her eyes.  She handed him a cup of water, then sat down beside him as he tried to get his breath back.

            "She may have learned much of it from her mother," Olórin said, "but that doesn't mean that I can't get in on it once in a while, too."  He slapped Legolas on the back, which only made the coughing worse.  "It'll pass in a minute."

            "What was in that?" Legolas asked hoarsely once he was able to speak.

            "Ah, I can't reveal all my secrets now, can I?" Olórin said.

            Legolas nodded, knowing that he'd been had.  Sérina stood up, taking the empty cup from him.  "I need to finish drying off.  I'll see you later.  She leaned down and kissed his cheek, then disappeared inside, Elewen following. 

            Olórin leaned back, sighing.  "I hope you aren't too annoyed with me, but I figured you'd managed to get her back when I saw her so wet.  Besides water fights, how have things been going for the two of you?"

            Legolas hesitated, and after a moment, Olórin saved him from trying to figure out what to say.  "If you'd ready to ask for her hand, ask her.  You have my blessing."  Olórin leaned back on the bench, drawing on the pipe and blowing out a smoke ring, not looking over at Legolas.  After all the uncertainty, as well as the matchmaking and scheming, he and Elewen had faced, Olórin didn't mind being 'persuasive' when it came to Legolas pursuing Sérina.

            "I…I'll speak to her when I have an opportunity," Legolas said.  His head was spinning at the abrupt change in the conversation, and his throat was still raw from whatever had been in the pipe.

            "You do that, lad.  That way, I may yet escape being pulled into many more of your pranks.  I get enough of those from Elewen."  With that, Olórin clapped his shoulder, stood up, and walked into the house.

            A few days and a few tricks later, Legolas and Sérina went riding.  When they stopped to rest, Sérina noticed that Legolas was nervous.

            "Legolas, I'm not planning any tricks.  You don't need to be so nervous," Serina said, trying to break the ice.  "What's wrong?"

            "Nothing is wrong," Legolas said, picking at an imaginary speck of dust on his clothes.

            "No?  Then why are you so preoccupied?"

            "I'm just thinking."  Legolas winced mentally.  He hadn't meant to sound so sullen.

            "About what?"  Sérina reached over and turned Legolas' face so he was looking at her.

            "The future," Legolas said.  Sérina nodded him on, her hand still on his face.  Legolas reached up and took her hand, then took a deep breath.  "Will you marry me?"

            Sérina stared at him for a moment.  Again, he'd surprised her.  She hadn't known what to expect, but this was certainly not it.  After a moment, she nodded, then kissed him.  After a long time, they broke the kiss, and Legolas held her for a long time, leaning his cheek on the top of her head.

            Legolas and Sérina spent the rest of the day riding, but eventually it had to end, and he took her home.

            The Elven community had been aware of the growing relationship between Legolas and Sérina, but news of their engagement seemed to spread like lightning.  As slowly as most things moved in Valinor, it didn't take long to plan the wedding, and soon they were riding to Taniquetil, where Manwë hosted a wedding feast that rivaled the one held for Olórin and Elewen 

~

            While the Fourth Age, the Age of Men, continued in Middle Earth, the Elves of Valinor found their rest.  For Elewen, Olórin, Legolas, Sérina, Elrond, Galadriel, and the others, it was a reminder that even when hope seemed forgotten, it was never lost.

~

A/N:  Sorry to be so late posting this chapter.  Thank you for reading and reviewing this story.  If you liked this one, please check out my other stories (on this web site).  I have a couple romance stories, including a couple crossovers.  I have a couple ideas I'm working on, but nothing very concrete.  I'm working on an original inspirational sci-fi and I have an outline for an Eldarion romance.  I'm also toying with writing another MASH crossover (a serious one this time).

            I appreciate all your input and I hope you've enjoyed the story!  Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Twin03


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